In the Darkness
by Quill-Weaver
Summary: The Dwarfs were always fighting an constant battle agaisnt the Darkspawn, even when the other kingdoms forgot of their existence, but as the new paragon takes full command of the army, even a veteran like him is not prepared for whats to come
1. Deep roads engagement

_There were many things in Orzammar one could be resentful of; there were the upstart nobles in the Diamond quarter or the slick merchants in the market who never failed in making a deal which their customers did not want, one of the more absurd tales was that some poor sod had been convinced into buying his own hat! And of course there were the dark alleys of the city, where the casteless gangs always waited, always watching for the unwary or the drunkard to relive of their possessions. And of course there was the constant threat of the darkspawn. They constantly besieged Orzammar, always looking for a way through the line, never tiring, never ceasing in their hell-spawned dream of conquering the city. _

_Still, let it never be said that the dwarfs were lacking in the duty that had been theirs for centuries. The dwarfs were warriors, a position that had to be since the fall of so many of their thaigs so many centuries ago. They were the first line of defence against the darkspawn. The surface kingdoms beat blight after blight and then forgot about the darkspawn, but the dwarfs were always there, always remembering, always fighting. _

_It was surprising how detached you could be from all this strife, even when you lived this close to them. The people of Orzammar truly had no idea as to what lurked beneath their very feet. If they truly did know, there would be an end to this pointless political infighting; every dwarf would be focused on fighting the darkspawn or trying to flee the city. Darker thoughts mused that was exactly what should be done. _

_The dwarfs were some of the best warriors in Thedas; constant battle with the darkspawn had made them tough, unforgiving and practical people. The dwarfs were the finest craftsmen, enchanters and warriors in the known world, time and again all the races had tried to take their fabled cities, and each time they had fallen to the blades of the valiant dwarven warriors. _

_Though these victories do not come without cost, each year the number of dwarfs dwindled. Some of the more pessimistic of the race say that the city can only defend itself for the next fifty years, a fact that many had claimed as outrageous, but never denied it. Because in the darkest recesses of dwarven minds they knew the fact to be true._

_But the dwarfs would never go down without a fight._

You would think after so much time spent in the darkness the spawn would find the presence of a light unusual. They were there, just as the commander predicted they would be, at least twenty of them and quite well armed. They would have presented quite a fearsome prospect to even a veteran dwarven warrior, but Rat knew they were only a scout group now. It had been that way since the end of the blight; the spawn had gotten far more cautious now that they were getting beaten back. They had reason to be cautious; the warden commander of Ferelden had declared that the dwarfs would no longer suffer at their hands whilst the rest of the world thought that nothing existed under the ground. He had launched relentless attacks on their hordes, burned their spawning nests, and was driving them out of the deep roads, in desperation some of them had tried to escape to the surface, thinking their chances would fare better in the softer human lands. But all the other nations had been informed as to the threat of an undefended land since Ostagar, and any sighting of them was reacted to with a furious onslaught.

But obviously the spawn were slow learners, a lit torch illuminated the dark path before them, and they slowly but surely advanced towards it, like a child going to a sleeping mabari, he was prepared for them. Strapped to that torch were barrels of explosive powder, Rat admitted that it was not common to such an object in the deep roads, but after a few years they should have at least known what it was. Rat took out is crossbow and aimed it squarely at the barrels, he docked the bolt but had to resist igniting it. Even the darkspwan would notice a second unexplained light and this might lead to them fleeing and alerting their superiors. Something which Rat couldn't afford on his watch, no, for now he would have to use his patience. If all his years of thievery had taught him something, it was to be patient. "Ah yes, patience" his thoughts mused "that was the one thing that got you into this mess now, fool!" he hated arguing with anyone, least of all his own thoughts but he couldn't deny that they were right. When he was growing up rough on the streets of dust town it was patience that taught him which target was worth it, when to fight or flee or when the stupid nugs would come out when he could find no other source of food. And above all it was patience that led Rat to encounter that dammed Warden-Commander. Rat had been born casteless in the slums of dust-town, rejected by the class-obsessed dwarven society, with ultimately no prospects in life he had been forced to go the way of all casteless, working for the Carta. In his childhood he'd made quite the talented pickpocket, someone caused a ruckus while he snuck and his little hands did the work reaching into pockets and packs, between caring for his mother and turning most of his profits over to the Carta it was some time until he could afford to buy his own crossbow, the shop owner had a heart attack the day a casteless dwarf actually came in and bought something legally. That crossbow was his treasure; he'd trained with that bow until his fingers were numb and bleeding. The leader of the Carta, a foul dwarf named Beraht, had seen his talent and given him the job of scouting out which people were worth mugging or assassinating depending on the job at hand. Of course then Beraht died, slain by one of his minions, personally Rat didn't hold a grudge against him, Rat had always wanted to kill that weasel, but he was annoyed at the fact that Jarvia took over the Carta and had been cracking down, he had to check every piece of information twice and live with the constant threat of her leaning over him. Life just got much harder, but then she had gone and died too, leaving him in his early teens with nothing. There was no more income and he and his mother slowly began to starve. In anger and desperation he had sought out the warden commander, he remembered the encounter well.

"_That pompous idiot" thought Rat as he watched him._

_Here he stood soaking up all the celebration, and so he should, the assembly had cleared him of his brother's murder and then blamed it on his youngest brother. And for defeating the blight he'd just been made Paragon, a living ancestor, the highest rank in Ozammar. But Rat imagined that he shared a common trait all noble-born dwarfs shared_, _they completely forgot about their lesser, those who helped them get where they were._ _Where would that arrogant bastard be without armourers to forge his arms and amour, enchanters to give his equipment a little extra punch? And his companions who helped him kill the Archdemon. Where was the mention of them? Did he kill the Archdemon all on his own, that's what he probably said. Anyway, Rat was going to kill him, they'd certainly execute him for murdering a Paragon, but with no work he was as good as dead anyway. He aimed his shot and fired._

_The moment seemed to go on forever, he could watch the arrow as it flew past the heads of his adoring fans, watched with shock as he caught the arrow mid-flight and snapped it in two, and with horror as his eyes turned directly on him. Rat didn't think twice, he turned tail and fled, but hunger had weakened him and now he was as no good as his crippled mother in a chase. The Warden had caught up to him and had grabbed him with a strong hand; he tumbled over into the ground._

"_Nice shot lad, though you might want to have picked an easier target" mumbled a deep voice. "I once survived an attempt by the Antivan crow's lad; you haven't got much of a chance"_

_Rat looked up at him, "Well if you're so high and mighty you'll want to get rid of a duster like me!" he spat._

"_That so?" his enemy mused "I'll admit that wasn't the best shot I've ever seen, but for a nugget like you that wasn't so bad." He stroked his beard in thought, "and don't be so hard on the duster thing lad, when I got exiled I was technically a duster, and I turned out okay, mostly because I had the right guidance. Something I think you're in need of"_

_His captor smiled "kid, you hear of the new regiment in the army that's forming"_

"_The all-casteless one?" Rat had heard of it, but dismissed it as nothing but a rumour, who would hire a brand to fight after all? _

"_Indeed, it's no rumour lad, it took me a long time to convince king Harrowmount to take up the offer, but in the end he accepted, it's going to be founded soon and we're looking for recruits, interested?" _

_Rat was dumbstruck; he'd never expected this kind of offer from one of the highborn. His thoughts were broken as the angered shouts of the city guard filled his ears._

"_There he is!" shouted the leader "that the casteless filth!" he ran up to Rat and slapped him hard, aided by the heavy chainmail gauntlet he wore. Rat fell onto the ground once again inhaling a cloud of earth and spitting blood as his lip cracked on the stone._

_The leader spat on him, "you want we should take it from here paragon? Assassination of a higher caste is a capital offence, he'll get a beheading for sure, and the assembly will probably let you carry out the honour!" _

_The paragon waved his hand dismissively, "actually this one will be joining the casteless regiment and will be fighting the darkspwan"._

_The guards looked at him as though he declared a sixth blight, "you're going to make this brand a solider of Ozammar! You must be sodding mad!" he roared before he realised he was talking to a paragon, he quietened down immediately. One of the smarter guards muttered "we stand by your word paragon" before the group turned away to convey the bad news to the crowd._

_The paragon looked down "guess that means you're signed up, welcome aboard kid!" _

_Rat got up to protest "I didn't sign up to this you know!"_

_The paragon cuffed him across the face "you stupid boy! It's either this or beheading, dunno about you but I prefer army, kill more darkspwan that way eh?" he finished with a chuckle._

_Rat opened his mouth to protest but he realised he had no choice, the paragon saw this and smiled, he offered his hand and helped Rat up. _

"_Glad to see you can think straight, that'll be useful for the scouting job I have in mind, by the way I'll have to know your name"_

"_Rat"_

_An eyebrow was raised "Rat, you serious?"_

_He shrugged "it's what those __**nobles**__ called me, a dirty thieving rat, real names Askel, but I prefer Rat, they're survivors, so are we"_

"_Alright then the names Krieger Aeducan, that'll be commander Krieger or paragon Aeducan. We clear on that." _

And that had been it, from that day onwards Rat had been assigned as chief scout of the regiment, his pay was quite good and he was able to feed his aging mother and earn more right's for fighting in Orzammar's army. He was struggling to come to terms with the fact that he actually **liked** that Aeducan noble bastard. As a grey warden, paragon and last survivor of his legendary house he'd built up quite a reputation. Though he was given a lot of grief because he stuck up for casteless he didn't care, he went to the surface to battle the blight, making him casteless as well. So most of the brands saw him as 'someone who sticks up for us, about sodding time' indeed it was no secret that his new house almost exclusively employed casteless, and he also funded repairing dust-town, making him even more popular. 'Maybe all nobles weren't so bad' Rat mused as he made his way _back_ to the command post.

To call it a command post was flattery, it was little more than a collection of ramshackle tents. But the place was a meeting point for the leaders of the regiment and the commander was there, silently contemplating the next course of action as the captains reported to him. His eye picked out Rat and he straightened up and bade his captains silent.

"What news scout-captain?"

Rat was uneasy, he never liked being called by that title "the spawn are nearing the trap paragon"

"Their leaders?"

"Unknown, estimated close proximity"

"So be it, men! The scouts will spring the trap and then we march!" a rousing cheer greeted his words, the casteless regiment, more commonly known as the Brand's, were ready for battle.

The darkspwan were clustered all around the barrels now, poking and prodding them. The scouts had seen no danger and signalled for the main group to come along. Rat loved this part the most, he wrapped the tip of a bolt in oiled cloth and struck it alight, in the deep dark the spawn noticed it almost instantly, but it was too late. The bolt sped off with a purifying twang and hit the barrels, the pure white explosion was almost deafening. The spawn unfortunate enough to survive were unnerved by the next deafening sound, the battle cry as the dwarven soldiers charged into battle.

By now the rest of them had reacted and charged back, Krieger could see that the spawn outnumbered them about five to one, this was going to get very bloody soon, Krieger knew what he had to do.

"Modest charge!" he shouted, his warriors knew what this meant and their charge slowed, except for some who stayed ahead muttering things under their breath. The darkspwan thought that the dwarfs were intimidated and pressed forwards eagerly; Krieger hoped they appreciate the surprise.

"Berserkers!" he roared.

Some of the advancing dwarfs ran forward with surprising speed, roaring oaths and curses as they cleaved into the darkspwan lines. They were a fearsome sight, raving and ranting while swinging weapons wildly everywhere; they seemed almost immune to pain and cut through the terrified darkspwan. The holes they left were quickly filled with the rest of the dwarven warriors. Krieger's plan had worked perfectly, the dwarven soldiers were making short work of the spawn, but they hadn't won yet.

A sharp high pitched shriek made Krieger look around frantically with dread, and then they came. They appeared as if from nowhere, out of the shadows came scythe limbed creatures and started hacking into the regiments lines, one appeared behind three unfortunate men, the first met his end when one of the scythe's they called arms split his head open, his brain-soaked comrades rushed to react, one of them lifted his axe to strike but the creature was too fast and dodged his swing while slicing him across the stomach. One of the others tried but another creature appeared and wrapped its arms around his neck, the blades slit his throat and the creature began devouring his head. Krieger new these creature's all too well, their official name was the Sharlok, though they were far more commonly known as shrieks due to their ear splitting cry they made in combat. One of them charged towards him, spittle flying from its lips as it made its killing leap towards him Krieger charged towards it shouting an oath to his ancestors he ducked and slid across while thrusting his great-sword high into the air. It cut through the creature easily and when he got back up the shriek fell to the ground in two very moist heaps. Krieger immediately sensed more danger, this was one of the few times he was thankful for the grey warden abilities. He could see one of the bastards crawling to him in the corner of his eye, when it leapt for him he did a downward slash and cut its legs off, the creature gave a cry of agony and looked back up at Krieger and roared its defiance, and he simply smashed into its head with the pommel of his weapon.

By now the darkspwan were beginning to have the upper hand and Krieger had been a leader long enough to know when morale was failing. He hefted his great-sword high and willed the rune to activate, the grandmaster silverite rune burned beautifully in the darkness, this rune had been created specifically to fight darkspwan and they knew it as well, they began shying away from the commander as he turned to face them, his eyes glowing a ghostly shade of silver "send these spawn back to the hell spawned pits from whence they came! For Orzammar!" Krieger roared, his troops echoed these roars and cut into the spawn with renewed faith. Krieger was at the head, each cut he inflicted burst into purifying silver fire.

The darkspwan soon began to realise they were beaten and began fleeing back into the darkness; the more eager ones began to pursue them but were called back by Krieger's guttural shout. They had come here to cause high casualties among the spawn, not take any territory.

Krieger spat a mouthful of blood into the blood-warmed stone and looked around, there was entrails everywhere, not all of them darkspwan, Rat came rushing to his side.

"Report" he simply grunted.

Rat snapped to attention "heavy casualties on the darkspwan sire, it'll take them at least a week before they can come back here"

"Our own?"

"More than we would have liked, about a quarter of the regiment" he was about to elaborate when he saw the saddened look in his commander's eye. "I'm sorry sir"

"No I'm sorry lad, I charged in too recklessly, maybe we could have checked more"

"Don't worry sir, it wasn't your fault" Rat comforted, Krieger placed a hand on the young lads shoulder. "Thanks lad, let me tell you this, life's too short to wonder what might have been"

Rat didn't like it when his commander got this solemn; usually he was trying to hide his regret, "let's go to the tavern sir, that'll make you feel better"

"Maybe you're right lad, company out! Let's get home"

**Dust town **

Rat only spent a little bit of his wages on drink; he went to the market and bought a bag of food for when he got home, he sighed as he remembered the dirty looks he got, even though he was still a well-respected warrior of Orzammar he still wasn't an equal, personally he doubted he ever would be. He opened the door to his house, ever since Krieger had become a paragon he had spent most of his coin trying in an effort to rebuild and repair the homes of the people who would eventually serve him, now dust town was a well built, if still looked down upon suburb of the city. He entered his house and his mother greeted him, she tried to get up but it was only causing her pain.

Rat rushed over to her and hugged her "hello mother Nadezda" he greeted.

She lovingly hugged him back "hey there Askel, hope you didn't get to roughed up fighting those darkspwan"

"I keep telling you I'm fine" he grumbled.

"Well you can't be too carful" she sighed, "oh I really wish there was some other job for you then the army"

"Doubt it mother, the nobles won't even spit on people like us, and besides, fighting the darkspwan is helping the city as a whole, it feels pretty good you know, doing my duty and all that."

Rat gave his mother the bag off food and she gave a sigh of relief, since he had begun working for Krieger they had never been hungry again but she still guarded every meal as though it were her last. He didn't care, these were the parts he loved the most, no darkspwan, no arrogant nobles, just him and his family quietly enjoying an evening.

**The Aeducan estate **

Krieger was mulling over the deaths of his men, the was truth in that statement he told rat, a lover of his had told him that once, but that didn't stop him feeling guilty. He lifted his mug of ale.

"May the Stone rest these proud warriors and welcome them into her embrace" he finished poetically before taking a large gulp. This experience couldn't help but remind him of his low opinion of the dwarven noble caste.

Him being born a noble, he rarely spoke of his feelings towards his caste mates but secretly he hated the whole caste system. All that occupied their massively overstuffed heads was furthering their own power. The was no unity even as a threat that had enough power to make their race extinct was on their very doorstep. Krieger knew that if they had to face half the responsibilities he had to they would soon give up their hopes of paragonhood. A minor noble would only have to worry about his house; he had to worry about the whole city falling prey to darkspwan. A minor noble would have to worry about scandal, he had to make sure their thick skulls weren't so busy infighting they forgot about the threat that lurked beneath even their feet.

And when they actually got what they wanted they did nothing with it, many nobles became generals and soldiers then ended up getting killed because although they had the money for such a position, they had little experience.

His lover and once told him of a game of intrigue and assignation that was played in the human nation of Orlais, they called it the grand game. This was a game of nobles constantly trying to get ahead of each other. He smiled as the raised his glass again.

"The Grand Game of Orzammar! A classic example of how those born without power crave it and those with power can't bear the responsibility that comes with it!" if that wasn't poetry then Krieger didn't know what was.

His thoughts were cut short as a messenger ran into the room.

"Paragon Aeducan! I bear a message of urgent importance!"

"Speak then"

The words that came out were not what Krieger expected to hear.

"I bear a message from your old order, the grey wardens!"

**Authors note: well this'll be my first dragon age story, as with all my stories it is dependent on your reviews, so please give me feedback whenever possible. And for my regular readers, sorry for my long leave of absence, I've been very busy. Quill-weaver**


	2. A New Adventure

Krieger sat in his throne, temporarily stunned by what the messenger had told him, for a society that lived remarkably so close to the dark spawn there was little support from the grey wardens. Krieger's best friend King Alistair had promised to send Fereldan support to the Dwarves once the Blight's damage to the nation was repaired, but thus far support had been lax and ineffective. Krieger admitted that the damage from a Blight took decades, sometimes centuries to repair, and so a large demand would be unreasonable, but nonetheless he would have to speak with Alistair about his support soon.

'Uh... your highness sir' a timid voice spoke up "this message was meant for your eyes only"

Krieger recovered and thanked the messenger the message was a strange one, it read

_Commander Auducan_

_We have been reciving reports from many nations of darkspawn raids of an unusual nature, at first we thought them to be merely stragglers from the Blight, but further evidence has raised much questions. These attacks seem to be for a specific purpose, usually to capture some supplies of weapons, they were also very well planned, usually survivor reports indicate that they were lulled into almost perfect traps and were then sprung upon with lethal efficiency. There were few survivor reports, a testament to the brutality of the spawn. We conclude that such attacks were the result of an intelligent organiser, and these are growing more frequent. I spend much of my time pouring over the details you gave me of the one you know as the Architect. _

_I conclude that since the Mother is deceased; praise the Maker, that the Architect is the one responsible for this as he is the only intelligent darkspawn we have known, other than the other Archdeamons of course. I command you to use whatever means necessary to make sure these attacks do not happen again and gain as much information on the Architect as possible. I expect a full report in no less than three months._

_Sincerely The First Warden_

Krieger handed back the scroll and told the messenger 'tell the First Warden I shall do as he asks', the messenger bowed and then left swiftly. Krieger poured himself another drink and was left with his thoughts. More attacks, by an intelligent organiser, this certainly presented an interesting prospect, Krieger did not agree that the Architect was responsible for these attacks. He had met him personally and he had the well intentioned goal of freeing the darkspawn from the call of the old gods. But there was some chance, the Architect has kidnapped some wardens upon Krieger's trip to Vigils Keep, when he had pursued he too was taken. It was entirely possible that these attacks could have been more of the Architects "experiments", but what of the Mother? While she was deceased it was possible some of her warlords were alive and continuing the fight in her name, Krieger resolved he would take an expedition to find answers as soon as possible. His opportunity came sooner then he realised.

A finely armoured dwarf came into the room with a formal march and saluted Krieger 'Paragon Audcean the King has requested your presence at a ball he is hosting'

'Must we go; I have business to attend to?'

'Sir, this is a gathering of the most powerful nobles in Orzammar, this would be good for the reputation of your house as well as sorting out trade businesses'.

Krieger gave a sigh, 'so be it, send for my finest outfit, we shall leave at once'

'Of course Paragon'.

The Royal Palace of Orzammar

There was an atmosphere of excitement in the main hall of the Palace, as it was every time the king held a ball. Lavish decorations had been plastered all about the room, there was Orlesian jewelled chandeliers, Antivan musicians playing exotic melodies and of course, Dwarven statues of Paragons and art depicting grand moments in Dawarven history. Krieger did not like these sorts of events, firstly because he was not a social creature, except with a few of his friends and secondly was that because these events usually were a front for business dealings and counter espionage. Krieger had no patience for the cloak and dagger state of affairs that was Dwarven politics, but he had to play along if he wanted his house to remain strong. His escort stood directly behind him with his polished armour gleaming and the symbol of House Adeucan standing proudly on his chest. He was called Gorim and had been a second so Krieger for as long as he could remember, Gorim has also been exiled from Orzammar when Krieger has been framed for his brother's death, but he had found happiness and family as a merchant in the capital of Denerim, because of this Krieger did not recruit him to join his cause as he travelled the country searching for ways to fight the darkspawn. But after the Blight had been stopped and Krieger ascended to newfound honour as a paragon, Gorim had asked to be his second again in return for himself and his family returning to Orzammar, Krieger had made it so and now Gorim served him more loyally than ever before, now he stood, confronting anyone who approached Krieger and demanded that they state their business, he did so to one unpleasant looking dwarf.

'State your business sir' he asked, the Dwarf walked past him, he moved between him and Krieger 'state your business sir'. The Dwarf looked annoyed and raised a hand to dismiss him 'back away peasant!' he ordered, his second rushed to remove Gorim but he was knocked to the ground by his shield. 'You'll pay for that!' the second roared and pulled out a dagger, the spectators looked fearful, this was going to get messy soon.

'Enough!' Krieger barked, everybody stopped 'what do you want Kylar?"

Kylar Hashut's eyes narrowed, House Hashut was formerly a prestigious house in Orzammar with many investments in the surface trade. It could afford to make its warriors finely armoured, their weapons well enchanted. Many dwarves spoke highly of House Hashut because it employed many members of other castes to do its bidding, as was to be expected from the second wealthiest house in Orzammar. But recently it had fallen on hard times due to its support for prince Bhelen, since he had attempted a failed coup against the desheyrs of the dwarven council any supports of the prince had met a relentless tide of interrogation and scandal, many of Bhelen's supporters had now faded into obscurity, House Hashut among them. This had been a particularly severe blow for them as they had quite a reputation for believing in the superiority of the noble caste over all other castes, and Kylar was chief among them.

'You really should teach your servants some manners Krieger; they get all kinds of ideas if you let them get away with things'

Krieger did not rise to his bait 'I ask again, what do you want?'

'So uncivilised as ever, I have heard several reports of merchant caravans being attacked along trading routes to Orzammar, I needn't tell you what this will mean for the city'

'I've heard the reports; so far we believe it to be renegade darkspawn'

'A fair assumption, but I do not agree, I rather believe it is a bunch of casteless degenerates who wish to harm Orzammar. They obviously cannot accept that they are inferior and so must spite their superiors with such acts, a waste of time in my opinion'

'I did not ask for it, what evidence do you have to support this claim?'

'Why simple deduction of course, what other reason would there be to damage Orzammar other then blind hatred'

Krieger growled 'there are a thousand reasons! It could be darkspawn raiders or simply bandit greed; they might also not wish to harm Orzammar, just some trading outpost along the way!'

Kylar was taken aback, but soon recovered his composure, 'nonetheless, I believe you should check out these problems and rectify them, good day' and with that he strolled off, his irritated guard behind him. Krieger pondered calling after him but thought better of it, House Hashut and their kind were not worth the trouble, and instead he left to speak with King Harrowmount.

King Harrowmount was the very picture of royal nobility his pure white beard and wrinkled; leathery skin gave him the picture of a kind, grandfatherly figure. He always wore the finest jewellery and the most expensive robes, making sure he gave off an aura of authority, to emphasize this he wore one of the finest crowns in all of Thedas. Made with the skilled hand of Paragon Branka and blessed with jewels and enchantments that shone like a thousand stars. As Krieger approached he bowed down on one knee and lowered his head, he formally greeted the king with 'your majesty'.

The king smiled 'arise Lord Auducean'

Krieger rose politely 'your majesty i have something i wish to talk with you about'

'Speak then'

'I have received numerous reports of raids against trading caravans, some say this is the work of bandits, but my order believes darkspawn to be the culprits, either way it is harmful to Orzammar. Regarding the darkspawn, they seem to have grown more organised and intelligent, just yesterday we received a near fatal ambush, just as we were springing our own. I believe that some factor is responsible for this and would request permission to investigate, as this would only impediment our progress in future'.

The king stroked his beard 'grave problems, I assume as always you have a solution to them'.

'I do, I believe I can accomplish both tasks with one swift action, allow me to travel to Ferelden to speak with King Alistair, and we can organise raids to ensure this problem does not occur again'.

The King smiled and looked Krieger directly in the eye, 'that look in your eye, I remember it well, your farther used to give me that look every time he had an idea he was absolutely certain of. It was also the same look you had when you swore to me that you were innocent of your brother's death. I knew then, and still know now that you would have the strength to make Orzammar great and powerful again.'

Krieger could not speak, King Harrowmount had such a powerful, noble voice that even when the slightest compliment was given it awed and left the receiver speechless. 'You have my permission to use whatever means necessary, go forth and eradicate this darkspawn menace'. Krieger bowed and then left the King's side; he returned to Gorim and told him everything of what had transpired.

'Paragon, if you are returning to the surface world you shall need a guard, I consider it my honour and my duty to accompany you'

Krieger was touched by his friends words, 'very well Gorim, but be sure to say goodbye to your family, and we need to go to dust town, to ensure the Brands will know what to do'.

Dust town

Krieger strode swiftly through the streets of Dust Town, although what was formerly a slum had now been gentrified to improve the lot of the casteless, the name still remained, the occupants did not mind. Krieger arrived towards a massively fortified structure, which was home to Orzammar's only all casteless regiment, known proudly as the Brands, what had formerly been a racial slur had now been turned into a name of pride. Standing on the armoured door was carved the symbol of the Brands, that symbol was also carved on the shields of two armoured statues standing sentinel over the door. One of the statues had resembled the deceased King Endrin, at Krieger's insistence; the other statue also resembled Krieger, at the Brands insistence, as a way of thanks for giving them these rights. At the top of the building stood numerous banners of blue silk, Krieger's favourite colour, he also smiled as he saw what they choose as their symbol. It was the very symbol that Orzammar law dictated be branded on their cheeks, now painted on their standards in pure white. Rat saw them enter and quickly roused the other regiment leaders; soon they had all stood in a circle looking to their famed leader. Krieger told them of all that had transpired that day, minus the details of needing to fight the darkspawn, and made a quick announcement.

'Until I order otherwise, the Brands shall simply guard routes between our outposts and the city; attacks against the darkspawn are to be launched only when necessary for defence. I leave the fate of the Brands in the hands of you, my commands, elect one amongst you to serve as temporary leader'

'Why can't we travel with you?' questioned Rat, there were mummers of agreement from all the warriors, Krieger smiled at their loyalty.

'This should only be a diplomatic mission, I doubt I will require a large escort, Gorim is an adequate enough bodyguard, and I can fight for fifty darkspawn!' Krieger chuckled. 'Anyway, good luck my warriors, keep Orzammar safe. And remind those noble's why the Brands are the toughest regiment in all of Orzammar!'

There was mass cheering and much patting on the back as Krieger was lead out from Dust Town, when he was alone in his estate he gathered up all the supplies he could in a backpack and sheathed his great sword, it was a magnificent weapon, made of metal that had fallen from space, christened Starfang by its maker, Krieger also had it heavily enchanted to make it as deadly as possible. His amour too was made of dragonbone plate personally carved by Master Wade and enchanted so not even the most vicious darkspawn blade could leave a scratch on it. Gorim also checked a backpack, his armour and weapons were fine too, they had been made and enchanted by the best that Orzammar coin could by, of particular note was the shield he carried. It bore the symbol of House Aduecan and had belonged to Krieger's farther. Gorim had considered it the deepest honour and had it enchanted to withstand any attack. Suddenly the door burst open and someone rushed in, it was Rat.

'Paragon, I've decided to accompany you'

'No, I do not approve, the Brands would suffer without their best scout, and what of your mother'

'The Brands are just guarding, they won't need scouts, and I've already convinced my mother. Paragon, you couldn't fool me with that speech, I know you're going to fight darkspawn'

'I wasn't made a Paragon for nothing lad'

'I know, but you once saved me from death, I think it's only fair that I return the favour'

Krieger exchanged a glance with Gorim; he made a quick nod to show that he approved of this decision. 'So be it lad, pack your things, we leave tomorrow morning, and I'll see to it that your mother is taken care of'.

'Thank you sir'

The next morning Krieger felt solemn, he hadn't eaten or drank much, and he felt sick at the feeling of leaving his beloved home. The doors to the city slowly opened, he felt the burning gaze of the statues of former paragons searing into him. He turned to his comrades, 'do you feel what I feel?'

'If you mean a sense of dread and light-headedness's, then yes' Rat moaned, he had never been topside before.

'No, not that, more of a sense of foreboding, a fear of what is to come, I feel as though when we return to Orzammar we will be different people' Krieger explained.

'I feel that way as well, but I know we are doing it for the good of Orzammar, so I'll happily make any sacrifice I have to' declared Gorim bravely.

Krieger smiled and cleared his throat 'well then, this is the last chance to leave, I'm not asking either of you to accompany me, and know that we'll probably face danger and there is a high risk of us never coming back'

'We know paragon, but we refuse to leave your side, for your good as well as the cities' Rat declared, Krieger smiled proudly.

'Well then, take one last look at the city lads; we may never see her again'.

The three took one last look at their home, and then marched off into the blinding light of the surface world.


	3. Discovery

Taal crawled very slowly along the forest canopy; years of practice ensured he did not disturb a single leaf or twig. His oval shaped eyes scoured the area for any sign of a curiosity, maybe a thing to hunt or something to entertain him. Taal spent most of his time hunting, he was very skilled at it, it was partly due to practice and partly because his biology made it so. His skin was pale and could blend in easily to the darkness; his oval eyes had very thin pupils so he could see a deer at midnight. His ears were pointed and thin to hear even the slightest sound, and his armour was virtually weightless and dyed a muted green so he would be invisible in the forest.

Taal was an elf of the fabled Dalish elves, his growing up in a clan had made him an excellent fighter and hunter, the Dalish had no land to farm or lawmen to defend themselves. Everything they ever had was either bartered or stolen, they had no other choice, most people feared the Dalish, and the human Chantry, which did not approve of the worship of the old elven gods, had propaganda rumours against them. The Dalish no longer cared for such accusations, they knew that even if they gave evidence to the contrary the humans would always fear and despise them; you could not educate someone who did not wish to learn. It was also the case that the rumours of banditry were not entirely untrue.

On occasion, if supplies for the clan ran scarce and there was no other way for the clan to supply itself the Dalish would occasionally resort to banditry, usually one big raid and then the clan would move on, again this was partly due to the fact they had no choice, but some Dalish, such as Taal had secretly begun to enjoy harassing the humans in any manner possible, the humans would not have thought twice about doing it to the Dalish, so why should they have different morals? But of late the Keeper of Taal's clan had advised that the hunters should stay away from the humans as much as possible. They seemed to be growing more resentful of the Dalish, even more so then usual. What had been minor skirmishes had grown into more like battles, and now many lords now paid bands of mercenaries to rid their land of the Dalish, no matter the cost. Tensions between them and the human nations were escalating, and many Keepers feared it would lead to war. Taal's thoughts were interrupted as he noticed something, there were numerous trees that had been hacked down, and he paused to investigate.

The stumps had defiantly been chopped down by some sort of crude blade, judging by the various nicks and other marks along them. Yes, this was definitely done by humans; Dalish blades were quick and chopped cleanly. Taal turned his head and noticed that there seemed to be a trail of hacked down trees, all chopped down with crude blades, why was there a trail? Taal didn't know of any large villages nearby, and there was no need for a large demand of wood. And why this particular batch of trees, they were located in the middle of the forest and had no particular significance.

Taal drew his bow, being sure to keep out of sight; he was going to investigate this in case it was a threat to the clan.

He passed along the forest for some time before he discovered anything, what he did notice was how quiet the forest was, not a single leaf was trod on or a single bird sung, not a sound at all. This was incredibly unusual and Taal did not want to speculate on why this was so. He stopped when he discovered two large torches across the path of the chopped trees. These posts were about eight feet high with the top end of them was wrapped in flaming rags. Since there was no other reason for them Taal guessed that they were to mark an entrance to someone's territory and deter any possible intruders, Taal was going to have to be very careful.

The path was so far deserted, it struck Taal odd that there were no scouts or guards, surely some bandit lord would have wanted to ensure his fortress was kept safe, when Taal reached the end of the path he found out why there were no scouts, the occupants did not need them. This was not a simple den of bandits but a massive fortress of warriors. The walls were strong and made of fine stone so that no one could penetrate them, there was plentiful arrow slits and spaces among the walls which had been designed for the defenders to fire without fear of retaliation and the gates were made of a thick oak wood which would be very difficult to smash. There were fierce looking bandits patrolling the walls and casting weary glances into the forest, the whole area around the fort had been cleared and Tall now saw the purpose of the chopped wood, there was a field of sharpened stakes all around the fort which made it impossible for an army to besiege. The walls were daubed with the strangest symbol Taal had ever seen, the fact that it was daubed in blood did not help matters, it was a symbol which made Taal's eyes hurt, it made his senses nervous and his fear heightened, it was a symbol of great evil, there was no doubt of that. But what was strange was this fortress and its inhabitants, this was the most deadly fortress Taal had ever seen, mere bandits would not have been able to occupy it. Taal mused on his options, a responsible Dalish hunter would go back to his clan and tell his Keeper, but still, Keeper Macha was such a cautious one lately, the merest sign of danger and the clan was scurrying off. This would most certainly happen should Taal report back, and his curiosity was simply too much, he had to investigate the fortress, besides; it was getting dark so he had a reasonable chance of sneaking in undetected.

Taal crawled into the field of pikes and crept skilfully through them, such defences were of no use against one as skilled as he. He took stock of the walls, they were built with a perfect flat surface, and there was nothing he could grab a hold of. Taal tied a rope around an arrow and fired it over the walls, he crept up silently, not willing to chance any noise, when he looked over the parapets there was no one at his current position, he climbed over and hurried to collect his arrow, he must be fast. The darkness was a good cover but it was only a matter of time until someone discovered the rope. He crept down the stairs fast until one made a squeaking sound, Taal cursed silently and hoped over the stairs to hide under them. These guards were certainly efficient, barley a second had passed when two heads creaked over the battlements to inspect the sound. These heads were clearly human, the round face and dirty facial hair made it obvious, Taal had never seen a dwarf but he knew their faces were more rounded and their beards were well kept. He noticed they seemed scared rather then suspicious, as if they feared what that sound was and hoped it would not be something that Taal did not know about. He was able to catch a few hurried whispers of a conversation.

'I can't see a thing down there!'

'Forget it! If it's down there it can't come up here and get us!'

Taal was curious, what did they mean but 'it', he realised that the rope and arrow was still uncollected and hurried out into the open. He did a special method of creeping that was taught to every Dalish hunter, to the guards he would appear as a dancing shadow, they would rub their eyes to check what they had seen, and by then he would have been gone. He picked up the arrow just as the wide gate doors were opening, Taal scurried of to the shadows and watched a band of humans come in, they carried filthy looking weaponry and armour, Taal guessed that these were the ones responsible for the tree felling. They reported into what appeared to be the main part of the castle, and one of them foolishly left the door partially open.

Taal crept inside slowly, every one of his movements cautious because he was now in a well lit hallway, there were many doors and passageways and he couldn't guess which one the bandits had walked down, for the briefest of seconds his rational mind told him to exit immediately, he was inside a large fortress with many hostile looking bandits and Creators knew what else. But his thoughts were interrupted by a voice.

'There was a large group of elves sir, 'bout three hundred or so, out in the forest' an unintelligent voice reported, and a growl was the only reply.

'The Dalish, so it is true that they come here, this complicates matters' a more intelligent but evil voice mused ' I doubt the Dalish will attack this fortress, but one can never be to cautious, I will report to the master and see what he has to say' it hissed, there was the sound of a large door closing.

Taal peered into the room, it was a large great hall but lacked any of the finery such a place deserved, instead there was large barricades obstructing a door almost as large as the one outside, it was clear that somebody did not wish to be disturbed. There was only a few guards manning the fortifications, the rest had clearly gone to rest, defying the rational part of his mind for the third time that night, Taal crept forward to inspect the gate. He slid behind the first guard and drew his dagger, like all Dalish craft it was a beautiful object, to the Dalish, the quality of a weapon mattered as much as its purpose, he leapt up and sliced the guards throat, true to its heritage, the blade cut across the bare flesh silently and efficiently, the guard fell without a sound, Taal dragged him to the edge of the barricade where he would not be noticed. The second guard was on the other side of a room, with ease born form years of practice Taal drew an arrow and fired, the shot predicted the guard's eye neatly, he crumpled silently, but unfortunately the other guards noticed Taal's victim fall and so rushed to investigate. Taal grumbled and peered inside the large door, it was not what he expected to see.

There were several figures in robes the colour of blood milling around a large pedestal, on this pedestal was a naked human tied down as such that he could not move a muscle, but he thrashed wildly at his restraints nonetheless. The robes figures moved in a circle around him chanting words which made Taal feel uncomfortable, it was as if no creature was meant to pronounce these words, they gave a feeling of sickness in Taal's stomach and made his ears sting. An individual came out with the same robes as the others, but with a cloak of black material fastened with Halla horns, he raised his hand and the chanting stopped.

'We have received word the Dalish are in the vicinity of this fortress, I pondered leaving them alone but the master wishes us to capture them, they might prove valuable test subjects, speaking of which' the man turned his head towards the captive with an evil smile.

'Dear sir, I thank you so much for kindly volunteering yourself for the future of the world' he mocked. The captive, mad with fear, began thrashing at his restraints, the leader stood apart from the others and spoke 'begin'

Immediately the figures swarmed around the captive, they poured blood carefully to make distinctive marks, this was no ordinary blood, it was as black as sin and when it touched the captive's flesh it burned, leaving ugly black tattoos. Once this process was done they raised their arms and chanted the man's head tilted back, he was no longer in control of his body, the tattoos glowed and began to spread all over his body, and then the screaming began.

The captive writhed and screamed as his body changed, his skin grew as hard as chainmail his eyes grew larger and moulded into the eyes of a predator, his teeth and nails grew long and black, Taal averted his eyes, not daring to look until the transformation was complete. When he looked back the captive was no longer a man, but the spawn of evil. The leader nodded and seemed pleased with the result, his eyes wandered lazily until they spotted Taal.

'Who is this!' he roared as the other figures turned to face Taal, he noticed that they all wore the same mark as was on the gate. 'Guards! Seize this intruder!' the leader spat.

Taal was up and running, outside two guards still remained, he notched and fired two arrows faster than any human archer ever could, the guards fell down in undignified heaps. Taal sprinted into the courtyard, by now all the guards had noticed him and sprinted towards him, there was no way he could get through the main entrance, so he sprinted up to the battlements he dodged a clumsy sword swing and slashed the enemy across the face with his dagger. When he was secure he tied the rope to his arrow and fired it into the woods beyond. The other end was tied to the walls and Taal swung down into the darkness of the woods, but before he could do so the rope was cut and Taal fell into a sprawling heap. He cursed, that was a finely made Dalish rope, no time to recover it, the clan's Craftmaster Elian was going to kill him. Taal checked his wounds, only minor; he turned and fled as the arrows of the defenders landed around him, one missing his head by scant inches.

Taal ran to one of his favourite trees and climbed up high, the foolish humans would never be able to find him now, he sighed and tried to stop his bleeding, he even managed a sly smile. Even though he put his life at risk, Taal had never had so much fun in his life! But still, duty to the clan came before personal matters, even Taal accepted that. He would have to report to the keeper, no doubt the clan would have to move or fight soon.

Val Rouyux 

'Stop that thief!' a finely dressed man shouted to some guards as a hooded figure ran down the street with some papers in hand. The guards were finely dressed like anything else Orlesian and they pursed the figure with haste, but they could not hope to capture the figure as it was too fast. It jumped across several carts and onto the side of a building; it scrambled up the building with the skill of an expert and soon was running along the rooftops. The guards decided to bring out their archers and soon a withering volley was soaring up to the figure. It dodged them expertly and managed to leap to another rooftop, but the storm of arrows did not falter. The figure took a chance and ran onto the rooftop surrounding the market, at this time of day it was bustling and there were many people around.

The arrows stopped, the risk of hitting someone was far too high, instead the guards tried to climb up the buildings to engage the thief in melee. It was of no use, the thief was too fast and quick and easily disappeared of into the shadows before it could be caught. The thief loved the marketplace at this time, not only because the market of Val Royoux was a fine place where one could by almost anything in Thedas, but because it was a very easy place to lose the guards and be hidden, that was why the thief had made her headquarters in one of the buildings there. Once she was sure she was out of sight she quietly made her way into the top widow of the building and slid through. She came into what appeared to be a perfectly normal attic, and that was just how she liked it, she was fairly sure that no one would breach this attic, but one could never be too careful. She sighed happily now that she was home and removed her hood to reveal a pink rounded face, great blue eyes and vibrant red hair.

Her name was Leliana, bard of Orlais, expert scout, assassin and thief and former companion to the Hero of Ferelden. She sat down in her favourite chair to rest after the days excursions; she would need her strength to face another job scheduled later. She decided to take a brief look at the notes she had stolen from the noble, they read.

_Meet us at this location tonight, it is critical we gather the funds to accomplish the task; it might be worthwhile to convince the Empress to provide the funds. _

Included in the letter was a detailed map of the industrial part of the city, it was located in the poorer quarter, Leliana cocked an eyebrow, this was certainly interesting news. What did they mean by the task? And how much would the funds be? She mused she would have to investigate this later? For now she would rest and think about things. Her life had changed so much when she came back to Orlais.

Firstly, she had been personally summoned by the Divine, the head of the Chantry and the most important woman in Thedas. She had been invited to discuss the visions she had of the Maker, when he commanded her to aid the wardens in the blight. She was also to speak of the location of Andraste's Ashes and confirm that they were indeed genuine. Currently a force of templar's and Chantry scholars occupied the town of Heaven, they had swept aside the last members of that sinister cult that dwelled there and was pouring over their research, as well as investigating the Ashes themselves. And visions from the Maker? This was indeed a revolutionary concept, current Chantry view was that the Maker stayed aloof from all beings, for both the actions of the Tventer Imperium and for betraying his beloved prophet. But to learn that the Maker still acted in this world, and that he deemed certain causes worthy enough to give aid through visions, this was indeed fascinating. Already entire philosophical concepts were being formed and many claimed to have received visions from the Maker. Leliana was now regarded as something of a prophet of the Maker, and she was well respected as such. Leliana also came back to hunt down Majorline, her old mentor had betrayed her to further her advancement and continued to pester Leliana wherever she went, she had attempted to assassinate her and her friends back in Ferelden, but the merciful Krieger had let her leave on the condition that she never bother Leliana again, she should have known better then to trust her.

About every few weeks an Antivan Crow or a band of mercenaries had attempted to assassinate her, thankfully so far she had always managed to best them, on their bodies she had always discovered a little note from her former mentor mocking her, she had sworn to come back to track her down. Once in a while she thought about Krieger, she sighed, she missed that noble Dwarf. Her best friend, her saviour and lover and above all, the person who had helped her gain a second chance in life. How often had she lain at their camp thanking the Maker for her brand new life, she had good health, a whole group of friends and a purpose, and it was all thanks to a Dwarf, Leliana chuckled at the absurdness of it. She resolved she would try to contact Krieger soon, she had not seen him since the Blight had been defeated. For now, she had decided she was fit again and so went to her wardrobe, it contained the most fashionable Orlesian dresses, Leliana always wore a hood when she did bard work, and she wanted people to think she was just a Chantry scholar and noble. She packed away her armour and dressed in an elegant sky blue, the colour most in fashion at the moment, and strolled out of her hideout, looking to all world like a noble on a shopping trip.

The market of Val Royoux was one of the largest in the world, Orlais currently still held the largest empire in Thedas and it was not shy about showing this. Almost everything Orlesian was considered fancy by the standards of other nations and many former colonies still traded with Orlais, so in the capital one could find almost anything, as long as one knew the right places to look. She strolled about the stalls searching for certain items, she bought a few healing poultices and some potions to give her more energy, she thought she would need it soon. Then she went to a stand that sold several herbal ingredients and gave the merchant a secret wink, he nodded and then pointed to a small box under his table, Leliana looked to find it contained several poisons, she picked several of them and paid the merchant a handsome amount before locking and hiding the box. All Bards needed certain contacts to survive in the Grand Game, and it was quite common for certain merchants to provide goods on the side for a little extra coin. Then she went to an armour shop and purchased several specially made daggers, they were incredibly small but very sharp and could pierce almost any armour. Once she had finished shopping she travelled across town and ventured into a small apartment. Her old friend Sketch lived there and she usually visited him for information. Sketch was a shy mage and member of the secret Mages Collective, he had been there when Leliana had been betrayed and had helped her escape, they still mourned over the loss of their old friend Tug, the Dwarf had sacrificed his life so that Tug would be spared. Often shying away from conflict, Sketch had instead worked up a network of contacts to ensure he always had valuable information for sale; very often nobles paid him a visit to gain an edge over their enemies.

As Leliana entered she noticed something strange, the door was open, Sketch usually kept the door locked three times over, she called out his name but received no reply, something was definitely up. She entered the apartment and noticed there was a strange lump on the floor. She moved over to it and found Sketch, his eyes were rolled upwards, his skin was pale and he was bleeding from a fatal stab wound in his chest, the blood was a mix of red and dark green, an indication that he had been stabbed with a poisoned blade.

'Sketch!' Leliana wailed for her murdered friend, he was a good person, he did not deserve such a fate, and she sat there for a while, tears coursing through her eyes. After a long time, she found the strength to stand up; she looked around the apartment but could find nothing to indicate who did this.

'I swear Sketch, I'll find whoever did this and make them pay!' she shouted over Sketch's body, she took a moment to clasp his hands for the last time, sang a prayer for the deceased, her friend deserved no less, and then clasped his hands over his heart. When she left she alerted the guards to the body and left instructions for him to be buried in the Chantry, no friend of hers was going to die unmourned and forgotten. She went back into her apartment to change back into her armour, as soon as she was done the door burst open.

Three mercenaries, well armed and armoured stormed into the apartment and began to attack, Leliana dodged the axe blow of one and rolled back, flinging a dagger as she did so, his head snapped back and he fell to the ground. Another came with armoured with sword and shield, he stabbed at her and Leliana had trouble deflecting them, there was little space to move around and daggers made poor parrying tools. He thrust again and Leliana dodged and stabbed him in the eye, he too fell down without a sound. This was Leliana's preferred style of fighting, quick and fast, never a prolonged struggle but always making maximum advantage of the weak points. The third one was more cautious; he kept his weapon ready and slowly advanced on Leliana, his eyes never leaving her for a second.

Leliana smiled cruelly 'as you can see, you're no match for me, tell me who hired you and I will allow you to live'.

The mercenary snarled 'I'll take my chances' and lunged at Leliana, a huge broadsword swinging in a vicious ark.

What happened next came so fast, Leliana rolled to dodge the blow and found a weak point in the mercenaries armour, as such she was easily able to hack his arm off. The limb rolled of neatly and the mercenary fell to the ground, eyes wide with shock. Leliana held a dagger to the man's throat.

'I'll ask again, who hired you, tell me!' she roared.

The mercenary, his mind numbed with pain and fear, spoke in a hurried voice, 'it was someone called Majorline! She ordered us to kill the elf mage then said we would find you here! She then said to kill you! That's all I know! I swear!'

Leliana rewarded the mercenary with a painless death, she sliced his throat, he died instantly, 'That was for you Sketch' she whispered.

Leliana thought about the situation, she doubted that Majorline thought the mercenaries could take her; she only used them, like she used everyone, for her own ends. Leliana's hideout had also been compromised; she now had no safe place to go, except, she thought, she did have Ferelden. Her friend Alastair was currently reining as King, and Krieger was well respected among the Ferelden folk. Leliana decided that she would be safest in Ferelden. But first she had some business to attend to, it was getting dark and the business with the letter was to be conducted soon, Leliana packed as much equipment as she could carry and strode of into the darkness, one more job and then she would be reunited with Krieger again!

As she took off into the night she comforted herself by whispering 'soon my love, soon'.


	4. Return to Ferelden

King Alistair was seated in his court around a large table with various nobles seated around him, these nobles were members of his royal council, each had been personally handpicked by him to ensure that his nation was governed efficiently, though this was not always the case.

To his left and going clockwise sat Enchanter Lecturm, the Circle of magi's voice on royal politics, Lecturm was little more than an ambassador, his voice was required in all matters magical but little else, he fidgeted and shuffled constantly, he was uncomfortable in the presence of non-mages. Then there was Commander Kaleb, Kaleb was originally a noble from the city of Highever, Tyern Fergus Cousland has personally recommended him for his leadership during the Siege of Denerim some time ago, under his leadership a portion of the city had managed to whether attacks from the darkspawn and some of its citizens were safe there, he had been in high regard in the city ever since. In return for his efforts Alistair had made him commander of all Ferelden's army, Kaleb sat quietly, cold eyes analysing everything and everyone to discern some possible threat. Then there was Horatio Roland's, the kingdoms Master of Coin, he was solely responsible for the economy of the country, Alistair was no good with money so he had granted Horatio autocratic powers over the nations money. This proved to be a wise choice as he had established newer trade links with many foreign nations and Ferelden had grown quite rich under Horatio's strict policies, true to his post he sat with a confident pose, fine clothes making the other councillors seem to be paupers. And finally there was Orgnolf Harrowmout, nephew to the king and official ambassador to Ferelden from Orzammar, one of Alistair's first acts was to improve relations with the Dwarfs, Alistair had been to the Deep Roads and seen the hell that threatened their race on a daily basis and declared that they would no longer suffer alone.

'The fact of the matter is your majesty' Roland spoke in a luxurious tone 'Orlais has been withdrawing trade links from the country's northern border, if we wish to have the funds to recover from the Blight we shall have to find out why this is so'

'What of your contacts in Orlais?' Alistair asked.

'Nothing my lord, all the answers they get are saying it's the wishes of the ruling caste, personally I say there's something funny going on, never thought an Orlesian would turn down coin'

'Send your agents to investigate this, we need the money desperately, Lecturm, how are things at the circle tower?'

'Calm your majesty, we have recovered from Uldred's uprising and a new generation of apprentices comes to bolster our ranks. There is peace among the Circle, though it will be some time before we are back to full strength.'

'I heard recently there was some escapes of sorts'

Lectrum shifted nervously 'Ah well, you see... there was a minor infraction by some delinquents, but they have long since disappeared and there is nothing worth worrying about'

'Tell us more'

'Well, there was a group of individuals that escaped the Circle one night, we don't know how; it would appear that from the evidence collected the escapees seem to have been practising blood magic'

There was an air of suspense around the room; everyone present had heard sensationalised tales of blood mages and the mere mention of such a concept could make the most fearless man jump at shadows. Lectrum wisely spoke again.

'But-But this is mere rumour and speculation, nothing I've heard from the tower yet verifies such a claim.' The rest of the council calmed down slightly, Alistair then turned to Kaleb, he did not need to ask.

'I have found nothing to indicate that the Orlesian forces plan to attack us your majesty, the border forts report no unusual activity and there has been no messages calling for a mass movement of arms, but still' Kaleb hesitated nervously.

'Still?' Alistair raised an eyebrow.

'I just don't trust them sir, think of it, they have never been in a more perfect position to attack us, the Orlesian empire is still the largest in the world, they have considerable manpower and their nation has been relatively untouched by the Blight, they also are our only lifeline for economic recovery, they have absolute power over us'.

'What a ridiculous assumption Kaleb' Roland butted in 'if Orlais took over the nation again they wouldn't gain money from trade'

'If they took over they wouldn't need it! They would have access to all our resources, especially our coin!'

'Silence!' Alistair roared, the entire council chamber was silent except for the sounds of the city outside, Alistair knew that Roland and Kaleb did not like each other but such was their skill in their fields that to replace either of them would be a useless endeavour.

'I know that Orlais have power over us, but they are our only chance of recovery, so I belive we are forced to give them the benefit of the doubt, but nonetheless I would keep carful watch on Orlais in future Kaleb'

'Of course your majesty'

'Good, and now for some no doubt lighter news' he turned to the Dwarven ambassador, 'Orgnolf, tell me, what goes in the realm of Orzammar?'

'Things in the city are going fairly well, though as ever my uncle has to deal with small minded nobels and power hungry fools'

Alistair nodded he himself had experienced the cloak and dagger affairs of Dwarven poltics.

'But we have had some minor problems with the Darkspawn, more so then usual, they appear to have become more intelligent, they are planning more raids and our soilders struggle to hold them back. Personally I think that Paragon Audcean is being far too bold, he lacks the patience necessary to mount an effective campaign, and we simply need more recruits'

'Tell Krieger if he asks I can send the wardens in, and I know we have promised to aid the Dwarves but with all the Orlesian trouble I don't have the resources to spare'.

'Funny you should mention that your majesty, because I received word recently that Paragon Krieger is coming to visit Denerim to discuss the matter'.

Alistair shot up immediately 'Krieger's coming! He's coming back!' Alistair momentarily forgot his royal manners and cheered excitedly, though he did not relish talking about the Dwarves with Krieger, he had not seen his best friend for months now. But then he soon realised he had acted improper and recovered himself.

'Yes well, this is certainly a momentous event, have the criers sound this immediately, the people will be please to know that their hero is coming back, have the guard stand on alert'

'Of course sire'

It was clear that there would be no more matters of governance attended to today, all council members knew that once King Alistair was in one of his excitable moods then there was no talking sense into him. His supporter's believed this almost childlike enthusiasm was a part of the king's charm; his opponents maintained that it was part of his foolishness. Briefly after the council had left the chamber Kaleb snuck back in, hoping to catch the king in a calmer mood. He found Alistair with a grin of enthusiasm upon his face.

'Sire, regarding the council meeting, I still think it would be wise to send spies to the Orlesian court to gain information, I simply can't trust Orlais'

Still smiling, Alistair gave a brief nod that indicated he approved, and then wandered off out into the palace; his closest aides knew that he went down to the taverns to socialise with the commoners at this time.

Kaleb had very good reasons to be watchful of Orlais.

Val Royux

Leliana hopped slowly from shadow to shadow on the buildings of the industrial district of the city, whilst night had fallen and it was pitch black, she had painfully learned that it was never wise to take chances with Marjorline, the memory of her dear friend Sketch still fresh in her mind, she pursued her task with grim determination. She left her knapsack with all unnecessary provisions in a quiet rooftop above a tavern, it was dark and out of sight and she could easily slip into the tavern should things go wrong. Her armour gripped tightly against her flesh as she judged which equipment would be necessary, it was an easy enough task, just slip in, get the information and slip out, but she couldn't help feel a sense of dread, her old mentor was as sly as an Antivan fox and twice as cunning, somehow she felt this wasn't going to go smoothly, which was why she ensured she was prepared. She had her armour especially enchanted to make it durable yet as flexible as possible; she was going to ensure she was never within striking range of any blades. She also had potions that would temporarily increase her speed and stamina, but these had to be used only if it was dire enough, a side effect of them was a horrible draining effect once it wore off.

Once she had decided what equipment she needed she slipped with catlike agility onto the rooftop of the warehouse, she hugged the floor as two individuals approached. These were not mere hired thugs, these were well trained elite men that crept past, their mouths firmly shut and their eyes vigilant for any sign of danger, to give Majorline credit, and she only had the best when it came to soldiers. Leliana decided to leave them alive, because they would demand pay when the night's work was done and she knew how notoriously cheap her old mentor was. She opened one of the windows and slipped down onto the supporting timbers. She silently crept across them as she surveyed the scene.

There was a group of men; all finely clad centred on a table in the centre of the warehouse, talking to them was her old mentor Marjorline. Leliana recognised her perfectly, the thin lined face, the jet black hair and the same glow of sinful pleasure in her eyes, it would appear that Majorline's paranoia had not diminished. Around the border of the building were heavily armed guards, on top of various piles of crates were crossbow armed henchmen looking at the roof, one nearly spotted Leliana and she was hugging the wooden beam for several agonising minutes before the man looked away.

'Welcome gentlemen!' Majorline cheered, the silky politeness of her voice doing well to mask her malicious intent, 'I invite to take part in the greatest imperial advancement of this age! We have a golden opportunity before us and I say we would be a fool not to take it, I speak of course of the rebellious colony of Ferelden, as you know, we Orlesians have rightfully owned Ferelden for nearly a hundred years now, before that rebellious oaf Loghain and his peasant army managed to beat us!'

There was much disgusted snorts around the table; it would appear Orlais was still smarting about its legendary defeat.

'But I am here to tell you it does not have to be this way, for moths I have been spreading details of Ferelden's weakness, it is so damaged from the Blight it will take decades to recover! I say we take Ferelden while it's downtrodden. You have no doubt heard of the Hero Of Ferelden, the famed Krieger Auducan, he had many plans to forge strong alliances with the kingdom of Ferelden, make no mistake gentlemen, if we do not strike now Ferelden will be stronger than ever. The Maker has given us this opportunity and we would be fools to waste it!'

There were mummers of agreement from the gathered nobles, Leliana dared to lean closer and recognised their faces, they were wealthy court nobles, and many had influence over the empress.

'You have all been invited here because you have gained favour with empress Celine, she will listen to you, if you can persuade her to grant armies to your cause Ferelden will be ours. Think of it, in addition to our empire's coffers being swelled you will gain much prestige with the Empress, this be useful for the Grand Game, no?'

The gathered crowed looked positively ecstatic, Leliana knew she had to return to Ferelden as soon as possible, her chance was spoiled when one noble spoke out. The man who she had stole the documents from shifted to Majorline and spoke nervously.

'Majorline, I lost the documents to a thief today, some hooded bandit, I fear that word of our conspiracy has been leaked.'

Majorline did not react with fear in the slightest, she simply chuckled, 'why yes, i wondered when she was going to get involved, isn't that right, Leliana!'

Leliana froze as she realised her name was being shouted in her direction, and all eyes were focused upon her, she had only a few seconds to dodge as a score of arrows flew in her direction. She lurched painfully off the scaffolding and landed on the floor in an elegant stance. The guards aimed their crossbows, pleased at such an easy target until Majorline held up a hand, they stopped immediately.

'Well, well, hello pretty thing' Majorline scolded, using Leliana's old nickname, 'I see we are still making reckless decisions' she smiled. Leliana stood still, glaring at her old mentor, her only movement was to draw two daggers and place herself in a combat ready stance.

'Not talking to me today, oh you disappoint me, don't you wish to make a comment on my grand plan, it's quite a devious one is it not?'

'It'll never happen!' Leliana warned 'I know the King of Ferelden and I guarantee he'll be informed of this, I can also guarantee he'll tell Empress Celine of this conspiracy, which won't look too good for your accomplices'

There was a general murmur of fear behind Majorline's back; they were beginning to think that this plan may not seem like such a good idea after all. She sensed this and ordered her men to attack; they charged her with swords raised. Leliana ducked under the first one and then stabbed him in the gut, the second one lunged at her with his sword raised but Leliana countered by jumping high above him and slicing of his arm, he fell down to the ground clutching his wound before Leliana silenced him for good. She then began to run towards a pair of soldiers, she skilfully rolled and then jumped in between the two; they were bought down with blades sticking in their throats. The guards were hopelessly outmatched, their clumsy and predictable fighting style woefully slow compared to the lighting fast acrobatics of their target. But for all her skill Leliana realised she would soon be killed by the superior numbers of the guards, they obviously knew this as well and began charging her in earnest. Instead of fighting she jumped and dodged, hoping to get a chance at Majorline. She ducked the slice of one blade, rolled and stabbed a man in the groin, then jumped on his shoulders and leapt even higher into the air, landing quite close to Marjorline; she sprinted, eagerly anticipating the chance to slay the one who caused her so much pain. But she was blocked by a wall of shields, she tried valiantly to jump over them but these were skilled men, one of them managed to catch her leg mid flight and slammed her down to the ground, she landed in a crumpled heap on the floor and barley managed to roll out of the way of the blades. Blood leaked from a wound in her forehead and she was heavily disorientated, Majorline laughed cruelly.

'Close pretty thing so close! Yet so far as always!' she mocked.

Leliana growled angrily, but she realised she could not hope to kill Marjorline in these circumstances, she reluctantly began to run back to the entrance of the warehouse, there was no sense getting herself killed. Her head wound was bleeding and her perception of the world around her had weakened, this was evidenced when she miscalculated the distance she needed to jump and tumbled headlong into a group of guards, they fell down in an almost musical chorus of clattering armour plates, Leliana was in real danger, she had to escape soon. She grabbed the potion she had saved for the situation and downed it vigorously.

It was as if time seemed to slow down, all the movements of the guards looked even more clumsy and slow, Leliana did not waste a second of this advantage. She ran forward onto a pile of crates and began the climb to the roof, by now the guards had covered all exits except that one. With her years of practice and the potion enhancing her it was understandable why the guards had difficultly hitting her. Leliana leapt from one wall of crates then somersaulted into the timbers supporting the roof. The guards had no idea where she was now and they scanned the roof frantically, Leliana knew she shouldn't, but the opportunity to settle an old grudge was just too promising to miss. Leliana un-slung her bow and notched an arrow, before she did so she coated the tip with the poison she had bought in the market that day. The arrow flung straight and true and hit its target.

Majorline screamed and fell to the ground with an arrow in her shoulder, unfortunately Leliana's damaged perception ensured she could not hit her head, but she had been close. The guards followed the arrow path and fired a replying volley into the timbers, Leliana dodged them and shimmied up to the windows on the roof, she began to run across the rooftops in a dissatisfied mood. She had not been able to kill Majorline, but she had nonetheless caused great damage, that poison was a special type of poision that ensured wounds by it wound never properly heal, it was a spiteful weapon, and Leliana would not of wished its use on anyone but Majorline. Her bad mood lifted as she realised she was only one cart ride from Ferelden; soon she would be reunited with Krieger again.

Leliana slipped back into her hiding place above the tavern, she quickly changed into a noble's dress for her journey, it was not unheard off for a cart driver to refuse passage to armoured individuals as they feared they were running and the pursuer would chase them, Leliana could ill afford to take such a risk. She entered the inn with the knapsack tied around her shoulder, she recived a few suspicious looks which she ignored as she went to the innkeeper.

'Is there anywhere i can hire a cart dear sir?' she asked, slipping the bartender a few silvers to ensure she would get accurate information.

'You're in luck ma'am' the innkeeper grinned, eyeing the coins 'Dean over there just got back' he said, pointing to a rugged looking individual at the other end of the tavern. Leliana thanked the man and bought some food and ale for the journey. She then went over to Dean and explained her desire to leave the nation.

'Ferelden eh? Where in Ferelden?'

'The capital Denerim, if you please'

'I can get anywhere, for the right price' he grinned, Leliana flashed him a few sovereigns and he quickly agreed.

'I'll pay this much again if we can get to Denerim as quickly as possible, with no questions asked'

Dean practically dragged her into his cart, as the cart took off into the night Leliana began to feel the draining effects of her potion, but nonetheless she was happier then she had ever been in a long while.

She was going to a nation where she would be safe, she would be reunited with her good friend Alistair and her love Krieger, and she had embarrassed her greatest enemy. It was hard to be worried of anything at this time, even Majorline.


	5. Dalish Encounter

Keeper Macha was seated in what was formerly a tree, crafted by skilled Dalish hands it was now an elegant throne which the Keeper sat in when she was to attend important business. The throne resembled a growing sapling, with braches reaching out into the sky, each branch was carved with what little Elven writing the Dalish knew of and at the tips of the branches there was always an animal or symbol of the elven gods elegantly carved. Whilst Taal was amazed by the beauty of such an item, he was also a little saddened, anything Elven reminded him of how their past had been taken from them, their history, their gods, their language and even their stories had been lost due to the accursed humans.

Keeper Macha had heard of the news and was contemplating what to do, her elderly face was covered in tattoos of arrows and prey being hewn down, this was because she was the leader of the Iyanden clan of the Dalish Elves, their founders had always warned of the humans and had always prepared, never were they content with what the humans had given them as they always knew their greed and hatred would lead them to return and claim what had been theirs. Currently their clan occupied a position of prestige among the other clans for one simple reason, they had been right.

'You say they had some sort of dark ritual' the Keeper asked.

'Yes Keeper, the thing they created' Taal shuddered 'I don't want to describe it, suffice to say it was not a natural thing, I also heard they plan to attack the clan. Use us as what the leader called 'test subjects' I say we should retaliate immediately! Ensure that these pathetic humans will not live to trouble us!'

The Keeper pondered this for a moment, then she stood up perfectly straight, she was taller than the average elf and her stern gaze ensured her authoritarian nature was obeyed.

'No Taal, it is pointless to risk Dalish lives in a conflict that is not worthwhile, we will move immediately and go north, there is little left for us in this territory anyway'

'But Keeper! If we leave now what is to stop them from chasing us to the ends of the earth!'

'Taal you are being foolish, we will leave immediately, I will send word to the hunters for one last hunt, meanwhile you are to stay in the camp, consider this punishment for wandering farther then I gave permission'

'Keeper, it is you who are being foolish!' Taal shouted, not caring about the looks he was getting, the Keeper was the respected head of the clan and it was only proper to be polite and obedient to his or her wishes, but there had always been some friction between Keeper Macha and Taal. Macha had been wary of the humans but wise enough not to pick fights with them, Taal had been different. The Iyanden clan were by nature xenophobic of humans, but Taal had pushed even these limits, he always advocated intolerance and violence against the humans in revenge for what they had done for Elven kind, he was no too polite of the non-Dalish elves either. He saw the 'flat-ears' as they were commonly known as weak for their ancestors decision to submit to the human rule.

Keeper Macha gave a stare that would immobilise a lesser minded individual 'Taal, you are letting your own desire's cloud your vision. It is not the way of the Dalish to fight battles we cannot win, if we stay we will lose valuable lives for no good reason, tell me Taal, do you believe you know better than your Keeper?'

Their eyes locked momentarily, but then Taal backed down, the Keeper had been a source of authority and wisdom, even before Taal was born.

'No Keeper, I shall do as you ask' he reluctantly spoke, the Keeper nodded, 'Hunters, prepare for the final hunt! Anything that cannot be taken must be left behind! Everybody else, prepare to pack up and move out with all hast-

She was cut off by a scream, all heads turned towards the source of the noise.

There were several bandits running in towards the camp, all of them were heavily armed and armoured with well made gear, they advanced towards the tents with vicious looking cutlasses, spears and axes, and some of them carried heavy nets weighted down so it would be difficult to escape from them. They were chucking these nets over Dalish children and adults who had not yet reacted, leading them were a few men dressed in the blood red robes, they were chanting strange words that made Taal's ears ache and strange blood red wisps, almost like floating drops of blood, were circulating between their fingers.

Taal did not waste a moment of time, he swiftly picked up his bow and was already loading an arrow by the time they had noticed him, the first bandit was down before he knew Taal was there, he fell with an arrow through his eye, his companion tried charging Taal and received an arrow to the leg for his troubles, he feel down screaming in pain and was finished by a Dalish knife to the throat as Taal ran towards his captured clan mates, he had his knives and was about to cut them loose when a red bolt impacted against his chest and propelled him to the other side of the camp, he hit a tree painfully and lay there crumpled against it, he was in a pathetic fatal position as the spell had left a lasting impact upon his bloodstream, the blood in his veins seemed to write as if it was trying to escape his body, Taal could only watch through pain filled eyes what happened next.

By now the other clan members had reacted and were filling the bandits with scores of arrows, scores fell with many shafts embedded in their bodies, many of the bandits had broken off and tried rushing the Dalish ranks, some managed to break through but only caused minor wounds before being cut down by the skilled Dalish warriors. But for all their skill the Dalish were having difficultly rescuing the captives, the remaining bandits had formed a circle with the prisoners at the front to be used as potential targets, the volley of arrows ceased in number, the hunters were fearful of hitting their own. Most of the remaining bandits had shields so the arrows were proving to be useless, the Dalish warriors advanced on them with swords at the ready, the Dalish did not like axes or spears as they found them too brutish and barbaric.

They fought fiercely as they engaged the bandits, parrying thrusts and countering with deadly accuracy, a lifetime of living by their wits had made the Dalish into fearsome warriors, and these humans would have to learn the hard way not to mess with them. Many of the nets were cut loose and the captives freed, it looked as if the Dalish were going to earn a victory when the human came.

One of the humans, obviously the commander of the bandits came into the fray, wielding a massive great sword ploughed into the ranks of the Dalish, he moved with deadly efficiency, severing limbs and hacking off heads, the Dalish could not hope to best this newcomer and so they backed off. They were also beginning to feel the effects of the wizard's foul magic, many warriors fell clutching their stomachs as this foul magic weaved its effect, many warriors began clawing at themselves, desperate to get this boiling blood out of their veins.

'Enough of this!' the Keeper roared, as she blasted the bandit group with powerful spells of nature, the bandits screamed as rocks appeared from nowhere to crush them, or roots sprang from the earth to trip and strangle them.

'Everyone get back!' she roared 'Withdraw! Save anyone that can be saved and get back!'

Slowly the warriors began retreating dragging anyone who could be rescued along with them; vengeful Dalish arrows ensured they could not be stopped. The bandits seemed to accept that nothing further could be done and began to retreat. The Dalish did not make this easy for them, their hides were peppered with arrows and a few more fell before they were finally out of range.

Keeper Macha helped Taal to his feet and used some of her magic to heal his wounds, compared to the pain of the blood magic, the warming glowing of the Keepers hand was a welcome relief indeed.

'How are you?'

'A little better, but still not great' Taal rasped weakly.

'I've dulled the pain a bit, but we'll have to get you to the healer, you'll be out for a few days before you're in optimal condition'

Taal moaned with pain as he was dragged to the beds in the corner of space that was the healing camp, the healer moved to Taal and started feeding him a few poultices and doing his best to tidy Taal's wounds. Once he was satisfied that Taal was stable he moved on to another patient, under emergency situations such as this the healer only gave his experienced attention to the most severe patients, any non-essential ones who weren't on the brink of death were attended to by his apprentices.

Taal closed his eyes as the effects of the poultices began to wash over him, the feeling in his body numbed and he began to feel he was no longer a part of it. He opened his eyes briefly as the Keeper strode up to him.

'How many?' he asked.

The Keeper, knowing the extent of Taal's concern for his clan mates did not lie to him 'Fifteen killed, three more fatally wounded and dying, twenty-five missing and about seven minor wounds.'

Taal sighed with despair and laid back, the Keeper spoke again.

'Original orders stand, we are to leave as soon as everyone is recovered'

Taal's head snapped painfully towards the Keeper 'our kin have been taken! We can't just abandon them!'

'Enough Taal! I have made my decision! We will leave! Now get some rest'

Taal was too wounded to argue, he lay back as the poultices dragged him into a restless sleep.

The Palace of Empress Celine (Val Rouyux)

Marjorline strode regally into the palace of the Empress; she made careful attention to ensure that she looked every inch the noble, the Empress, much like all of the Orlesian upper classes paid the most attention to the most important looking people. Behind her were all her fellow conspirators, also finely dressed in lavish silks of red, different parts of their clothing had different shades of red and they were deliberately loose so it gave the appearance of a flowing fountain of red wine, such was the fashion at the moment. She was pleased with the looks she got, looks of interest and attention, even the noble empress was impressed enough to cock an eyelash.

Empress Celeine was a beautiful creature, a perfectly round and flawless pink face with bright sapphire eyes. Her hair was like spun gold and fell gracefully down her body in a shower of beautiful locks, complementing her hair was her outfit, an unwritten law of Orlesian royalty was that they should sport at least one item of gold. She wore several layers of gold cloth which got paler with each passing layer; the least visible layers were gold dyed with a shade of brown so she looked the entire world like a golden autumn leaf. Marjorline made a graceful bow at her feet, as did all of her fellow noblemen, the empress raised her hand slightly, those who were wise in the ways of Orlesian court knew that this was an indication that they had permission to stand up and speak.

'My most holy Empress, I believe i have a most grand idea to further the power of our mighty empire!' a bold statement and one that did its job perfectly, the Empress looked positively intrigued. Whilst no one would dare to speak it out loud, the Orlesian Empire was staring to weaken, it had suffered various defeats in its northern territory's at the hands of Nevarra, and expansion in the north was limited by the Tventer Imperium, fortunately the Imperium's attention was occupied with the Qunari. Ever since what was infamously known as the Fereldan revolution, expansion in the south had been difficult, trade links had been forged with the free nation, but there was much more profit to be gained by conquering the land. It was also a matter of pride; many Orlesians were unwilling to accept that what they perceived as a backward and simplistic nation managed to beat an advancing nation such as theirs.

'Tell me then, what this idea is?' the Empress spoke softly.

'Ferelden, it has been severely weakened from the Blight, I suggest that we prepare our armies and take control of it now, I give you my word Empress, there will never be a greater opportunity to take Ferelden, it is quite simply a case of now or never'.

The Empress looked intrigued, she had lost her farther in the pivotal battle of that uprising, he was personally slain by Loghian, and although she had long made peace with the new King Alistair, the desire for revenge burned in her still and Marjorline took full advantage of this.

'Your farther was a most noble man, it was ill fitting of him to die at the hands of a peasant lord, i say let him be avenged, when we have gained victory we can erect a large statue of him in Denerim, to remind those peasants' that they cannot hope to destroy such a noble and proud lineage.'

That statement did the trick; the Empress had a look of bold determination on her face as she waved her attendant over.

'I am satisfied, I hereby sanction permission for this invasion to commence, the funding of this nation and its empire will go towards conquering the kingdom of Ferelden' she whispered this quietly, she always made her announcements in public long after her plans had been put into action. 'Marjorline, I also give permission for you and your fellow idealists to plan the invasion of Ferelden, succeed and I guarantee the rewards will be great, fail and I will be most unmerciful, you may leave now' she dismissed them with a curt movement of her hand. Marjorline bowed and left the throne room with her fellow conspirators behind her. Once they were safely out of hearing range they chuckled themselves silly with glee, they were going to conquer a weakened nation and earn rewards to rival a king's. One simple task and they were going to amass wealth to keep even the greediest individual satisfied for life, for Orlais things simply could not be better.

A few days later

For Krieger and his companions, things simply could not be worse, rather then crossing the difficult mountains out of Orzammar they had opted to take a quicker route through the trading roads, they should have known things were going to easy. Because of the blight's devastation, lawlessness and banditry were rife in the nation, even after a few years the situation had not improved, and a Dwarf lord with only two guards made an inviting target, so they had been relentlessly attacked by bandit's, raiders and all other kinds of fools intent on looting and slaughter. Fortunately Krieger and his friends were not new recruits in warfare, and the bandits had been repulsed, though with great difficultly. Torn by days of constant battle and little sleep or sustenance, the effects were beginning to tell upon the three Dwarves, so much so that even Krieger was beginning to have his doubts whether they would make it to Denerim. They had chosen to venture into a forest in the hope that there would be no more bandits, but it turned out that the forest was used by many bandit gangs as a hideout, in addition to the many wild animals and large gangs; this entire journey was looking to be one disaster after another. It was with incredible weariness that Rat inspected some marks in the mud.

'Yes sir, these are the same tracks of the things that attacked us last night, I'm sure of it'

Krieger sighed 'wolves again, perfect, let's hope they won't find us', at that moment a pack of wolves crept out of the nearby foliage, their maws slavering and growling with razor sharp teeth.

'You just had to say it' Gorim moaned as he withdrew his sword and shield. The first of the wolves leapt with a furious cry at the least armoured of the three, Rat. But he reacted quickly, ducking and rolling forward with perfect timing so that the wolf could not change its course, when Rat rose it was in a firing position, crossbow at the ready, the wolf had barley landed when a bolt went straight through its neck, it fell in a crumpled heap. Rat rubbed his crossbow with satisfaction, they were the only ranged weapons that gained favour with the Dwarves, the longbow was disliked because of its length, with made it impractical for the shorter race to carry, and the short-bow was seen as flimsy and weak. Two more wolves made a charge this time at Krieger, the first one jumped but fell when Gorim hit it in the side with his shield, it landed in a crumpled heap and Gorim's mace ensured it would not rise again. At the same time the other wolf was preparing to strike but Krieger had raised his great-sword and uttered a bellowing war cry, this was so fierce it made the wolves furthest from Krieger back away and the assaulting wolf stand still in terror, Krieger finished it swiftly with one stroke of his weapon, by now Rat had returned to their side and stood aiming at any creature foolish enough to come near.

The wolf leader had sent the weakest of the pack merely to test the strength of these intruders, it now realised that such warriors needed the whole pack to bring them down, it gave a roar and many wolves charged.

Krieger was in them first, roaring and bringing Starfang down on one unfortunate creature, it was split cleanly in half, another one came in from the side and found Krieger's fist, over the years of fighting Krieger had moulded into an incredibly strong Dwarf, and with a gauntlet made of dragonbone plate it was equivalent to being hit by an armoured meteor, the wolf was blown backwards, its jaw in ruins. A large wolf growled at him but a crossbow bolt to the eye ruined its chance of attack, one disadvantage of the crossbow was that it did not have the firing rate of the longbow, so Rat made up for this by dodging and waving around the attacks, and firing only at the strongest looking wolves. Gorim was like an armoured castle, no wolf could get past his shield and any who tried were crushed by his mace. Krieger resolved to end this swiftly, he hacked a path to his main rival and bellowed out a challenge, the pack leader accepted with a growl and ran towards him, it was swifter then its comrades and managed to get its teeth into Krieger's shoulder plate, he hammered it with powerful blows from his fists in revenge for the dents in his armour, this wolf was a resilient one and took many punches before it let go. It doubled back and ran again, this time Krieger was ready, he dodged the blow and struck back with all force, the pack leader howled as its leg was severed, Krieger rashly assumed that it was dead. But the beast managed to limp up and swiftly bite Krieger on the arm, it did not cause a major wound but it made Krieger wince nonetheless. He grabbed Starfang and bellowed an oath in the Dwarven tongue, it flashed in an ark of silver and crimson and ended the pack leader's life, he had some difficultly in removing the severed head with its teeth still embedded in his arm, without the leader guiding them the few survivor's nerves failed them and they fled, Rat ensuring that they did not return with a few bolts in their rears. Krieger took one last look at the corpse of the pack leader 'you were a worthy adversary' he said before banging his fist across his heart twice, a Dwarven sign of respect for a fallen warrior. Krieger turned and sighed as he saw more trouble 'out of the fryer and into the fire' he grumbled as men came wandering out of the forest.

These men looked fairly heavily armed and obviously knew the ways of the forest, Krieger immediately guessed the well made weapons and arms meant one things, they were skilled fighters to be able to afford such things. Their leader spoke in a lavish voice.

'My my dear sirs congratulations, you must be skilled warriors to send an entire wolf pack fleeing for the hills, but tell me, what would such warriors be doing deep in this forest?'

'We are but travellers' Krieger answered, Rat and Gorim looked at him, wondering why he was not giving the real reason, but Krieger bade them to be silent.

'Come now, such heavily armed warriors would not be travelling through this wood, what is your real purpose?'

'Nothing we wish to discuss with you'

'Tut tut, such bad manners when we offer a service, pray tell me, do you know the way out of this forest?'

The three Dwarves were silent, the leaders face lit up, 'well then, this is where we can help! We are experienced guides around this area, and we can guide you out of the forest safely for a small fee of course, if we were to offer our services for free then we would be as poor as beggars.'

Rat looked to accept but Krieger stopped him 'there highwayman lad' he warned.

The highwayman was a considerably more intelligent version of a bandit, he was smart enough to know that intimidating people for money was easier then taking it by force, as such highwayman were usually wealthier then common bandits, tougher as well. The leader heard Krieger and scowled.

'Alas we have been discovered, so you have seen through our little pantomime, never mind, the offer still stands, give us a few sovereigns and we will tell you the best way to get out of this forest, a good deal don't you agree'

'We're not scared of you' Gorim growled.

'Clearly, but you are wounded and battle weary, a fairly easy picking for us see, so I think you'll agree it would be wise for you to take our offer'

'Thank you, but we must pass, and be aware you are talking to the Hero of Ferelden, I slew an archdeamon in single combat, a gang of ruffians isn't a challenge to me' Krieger warned, but he wasn't totally sure of it, he was very tired after all, the highwayman sensed this too.

'Oh what a shame, oh well, you'll regret this my foolish friend' he smiled wickedly, his cohorts drew their weapons and advanced with murder in their eyes, but before they could an arrow pierced the head of one of them, the others stopped, momentarily confused by this.

Krieger did not hesitate to take advantage of this, he ran and beheaded two of the bandits with Starfang, the other tried to attack but Krieger deflected, and buried Starfang in the bandit's chest. The arrows kept coming, felling more bandits, they yelled as arrows struck in eyes or spaces in armour with pinpoint accuracy. Krieger kept up the pace, Starfang felling bandits with ruthless vigour, it cut through armour as though it were silk. Soon all that was left was the leader; he cowered away with his hands raised in surrender.

'Please sir! I yield! We have been defeated! I will leave!'

Krieger grunted 'go! And never trouble us again!' he ordered.

The bandit leader turned to flee but Krieger's order was obeyed sooner than either of them realised, an arrow came speeding out and struck the Highwayman in the back of the head, he fell without a sound. Krieger shrugged with indifference to his fate and shouldered Starfang, 'good job with those arrows lad' he congratulated Rat but was greeted by looks of surprise.

'Paragon, Gorim and I didn't do a thing; we don't know where the arrows came from'

Their answer came with a rustling of tree leaves, they looked up and a vicious looking elf sat there, his armour was dirty and dyed a dark green to camouflage himself in the trees, over it he wore a dark green cloak with a matching hood. Little of his face could be seen but Krieger managed to make out an arrow tattoo on his right cheek. He watched them with predator like eyes, his bow strung and ready to fire, he lowered his bow when he saw that they were not human.

'What do we have here? Too well armed to be bandits, too rich looking to be scavengers and not a human amongst them' the elf mused, more to himself then the three dwarves.

Krieger cleared his throat 'pardon me, but would I be speaking to a Dalish elf?'

The elf cocked an eyebrow and replied 'you would, not that it's any business of yours' he said in a mocking tone. Whilst Dalish were enemies with humans, they were relatively indifferent to Dwarves, their race had done nothing to help nor hinder them, but like anything strange, the Dalish were cautious with them, they never knew when one could be trouble.

'Tell me Dwarf, what brings you here, this is Dalish territory'

'Last time I checked this territory belonged to the kingdom of Ferelden' Gorim stated, the elf raised his bow 'our clan settled here, this makes it our territory until we have moved on, care to dispute this Dwarf' the elf challenged.

Krieger stepped in before things got messy 'we are Dwarven emissary's on a mission to Ferelden's capital, we are friends of the Dalish and mean no harm'

The elf scoffed 'friends! The Dalish have no friends other then ourselves, contact with the humans has shown us this, now leave here at once!'

'Who are you to command us' Gorim challenged 'there are three of us and one of you', Krieger stopped him raising his weapon 'you may want to recount that' he warned, as soon as he said that many more Dalish hunters merged out of the forest, all carrying bows and all aimed at them. Krieger spoke again.

'I have no desire for conflict, I am Krieger Auduecan, I fought alongside the Dalish at the battle of Denerim and saved your clan from the werewolf curse, surely you have heard of me'

The elves talked among themselves, finally the elf who had first appeared spoke up 'that was not our clan, but we have heard the tale from them, and you match their description, we also fought at Denerim, if you are who you say you are this means you are a Grey Warden, correct?'

'That is correct'

'This means you are a fearsome warrior' the elf said to himself as an idea formed in his mind 'I have a deal for you Dwarf, we will heal your wounds and guide you out of this forest, in return you will provide a service for us, is that a deal?'

'We shouldn't allow any distractions from our main quest Paragon' Gorim mentioned.

'You could always navigate the forest yourself' the elf mocked.

This was one offer that Krieger could not refuse, 'very well, I accept your deal elf'

'Good, follow us, but remember, our arrows are trained on you and will not stop until the Keeper says so, come' the elf ordered.


	6. Gorim's Lament

The three Dwarves were bought into the camp of the Dalish, once the hunter patrol informed everyone of who they were the rest of the occupants seemed to relax a little, but still kept a weary distance from them. The hunters directed them towards an elderly looking elf seated in a lavish throne made of a former tree, Krieger stared at its beauty, it was carved to resemble a tree, the 'branches' elegantly linked together to form a suitable place for the Keeper to rest her back, there was elven writing all over the throne and pictures depicting the elven gods or other symbols of the elven faith. The Keeper of this clan was a hard faced, stern looking elf with snow white hair from which hung various Dalish braids, he face was pale save for two ink black tattoos. On her right cheek was an arrow being fired and on her left cheek was a stag being bought down by an arrow, she was dressed in fine green silks and well cleaned furs, were it not for the strange outfit it made, these materials would not have looked out of place in a nobles court. Her outfit appeared to be a lavish green robe which was decorated with leaves made of bronze and gold as well as Dalish religious symbols made out of Halla horn, like her hunters she also wore a green cloak but this cloak was much more elegant, the hunters cloaks were designed for camouflage, this cloak was designed for beauty. It was green silk and covered in designs of creatures, hunters, priests and warriors, it was as if some great Dalish artist had made an entire tapestry out of that cloak and Krieger suspected this to be the case. On her back she carried a venerable looking staff which would have looked like an ordinary tree branch were it not for the green runes glowing on its surface, the particularly bright glow told Krieger this was a particularly powerful staff. The Keeper rose and all the hunters went on bended knee as a formal greeting.

'Keeper' the first elf they had met began 'these Dwarves were found in the woods near the camp, one of them claims to be a Grey Warden, I thought it best to leave such matters to you'

'A wise decision Taal, dismissed' she waved her hand and the hunters strode off, she bowed politely 'yes I remember your face, you are without doubt the man who slew the archdeamon, and truly we are privileged to have such a mighty warrior grace us. I am Keeper Macha of the Iyanden clan of the Dalish elves'

Deciding that politeness was the best course of action Krieger bowed back 'good day, I am Paragon Krieger Audecan, leader of both the Dwarven Audecan house and all Grey Wardens in Ferelden. These two are members of my house and currently my guards'. Rat and Gorim both bowed as well.

'Tell me, what brings three Dwarves above ground?'

'There is trouble under the earth Keeper, the darkspawn grow more and more capable with each passing day. We have barely enough to hold them off as it is; this change is unacceptable for us. We have also received word of darkspawn attacks above ground as well, it is hoped we can find the reason for this and put a permanent stop to it.'

'Then I wish you good luck on your quest' the Keeper smiled 'but for now, allow us to feed and heal your wounds, it is the only thing we can do for such a good friend of the Dalish'

They were lead over to a campfire and were given a meal of venison and spring water, after a few minutes the Dalish began questioning them, many had longed to hear tales of his adventures fighting the Blight and his quest to fight the werewolves, Krieger chuckled and gladly related the story to the children listening. They awed as he told them the details of the werewolves, they cowered in fear as he told them of the dangers of the old Tvinter temple they had been into and they cheered as he told them of the outcome of the adventure, peace to the troubled werewolves and the heroic sacrifice of Keeper Zathrian. Gorim and Rat listened too, they were always eager to hear of war stories from the fabled Gray Warden. Once they had finished lunch they were taken to the sick bay, Krieger was glad their wounds were minor; it meant they did not have to stay long. The Dalish in the bay were carrying serious looking injures and Krieger did not relish looking upon them.

'What has happened?' he asked.

'Our clan suffered an attack a few days ago' an overworked looking apprentice healer told them, 'many were badly injured, three of them died this morning, there was nothing we could do for them' he sighed and mended their wounds. Once they were out of the bay they went back to the Keeper and she told them everything.

'The hunters say that there is some sort of fortress in this forest where dark rituals are being conducted, we saw the wizards ourselves and they were horrible looking humans, they wielded some sort of powerful dark magic which caused great suffering to us, a few days ago a vicious raid by bandits in their employ resulted in twenty-five of our clan-mates being captured, we tried to rescue them but to no avail. We are currently planning on moving north, away from this nation, there are dark times in store for this land, I can sense it'.

'Wait, you can't just leave your clan-mates behind!' Rat mentioned.

'That's what I said!' came the voice of the militant elf named Taal from the other end of the campfire.

The Keeper silenced Taal with a glare and then spoke to Rat 'it pains me to do so child, but our hunters report the stronghold is impregnable, to attempt a rescue would be to put more lives at risk, believe me if there was any other way I would try it but there isn't'

'There is now' Taal said as he walked towards them, the Keeper thought he was going to argue with her but instead he turned to the Dwarves.

'Well Dwarves, we have done as we promised, we have fed and healed you, now it is time for you to fulfil your end of the bargain'

'Bargain?' the Keeper questioned but Taal ignored her 'You are capable warriors; we need help in rescuing the prisoners'.

'Taal!' the Keeper said in an appalled voice, 'we do not bargain with our friends! How dare you involve them in your fight!'

'You are unwilling to do anything to rescue the captives, so I am taking the initiative here!'

'How dare you, these people have important business to be getting on with!'

'And the lives of our clan-mates are less important!' Taal accused.

The Keeper sighed 'Taal, I don't leave them out of spite, I don't believe we can help them Taal, you've been in that fortress, it's impregnable!'

'Then let me try, if we don't we'll spend the rest of our lives regretting this' Taal declared.

The Keeper gave in and turned to Krieger, 'I hesitate to ask Grey Warden, but if you have the time then-

'You've no need to ask, I would never leave innocent lives to suffer at the hands of these savages' Krieger announced.

'It's settled then, I'll go with the Dwarves, anybody else?' Taal asked, there was no reply, after a minute Taal shouted 'so be it, but when I rescue these captives I'll be sure to tell them how we had to rely on outside aid to save them!' he stormed off, with Krieger, Rat and Gorim in hot pursuit.

The Circle of Magi tower

Senior enchanter Wynne was currently indulging in her favourite pastime, travelling the infinite reaches of the Fade. The Fade was an alternative, metaphysical realm where spirits existed in the place of mortals, the true size of this dimension was impossible to tell, and the rules and laws of that place were constantly ever-changing, the thing mortals called 'reality' had no place in the realm of spirits and daemons, they did as they desired and cared not for such mortal things like rules. Wynne so dearly loved it here, away from the boundaries and prejudices in the mortal world, and there were many of these prejudge to be found, particularly for her kind. The general populace of Thedas had a medieval attitude to her kind, for the sole reason that they were mages, with the ability to commit abnormal acts, their fear was not entirely unfounded, for at all times a mage was in danger of possession by a prying daemon, they fed on the emotions of mortals and many times tricked them into possession in return for great rewards, these were false promises. Possessed mages became what was known as Abominations, horrible twisted creatures with grotesque strength and endurance and powerful dark magic, these were difficult to kill indeed. Thankfully the mood was starting to change, people were becoming more accepting of mages due to Wynne's friend King Alistair giving them more rights, but that fear still remained, Wynne supposed it always would.

Often her colleagues hinted that Wynne was growing senile, they say the harsh realities of war had finally turned her mad, perhaps this was true, but at least her magic allowed her to enter a realm where being sane did not matter. Wynne mused that she was probably going to be going senile soon, for she was certainly not a young woman anymore, she had been a companion to the Grey Warden Krieger on his quest to purge the Darkspawn from Ferelden, and she was elderly even then, but she believed that ridding the nation of the Blight was her final purpose, and that gave her the energy to keep carrying on through all the times of hardship. Now though, she was on her last legs, she was growing older and weaker with each passing month, now that her purpose had gone all that was left for her was to expire, she did not mind this, for she had lived a full life, bringing happiness to many people and even saving the entire nation, few people could have said the same with an honest face. She hadn't thought of her companions in a long time, she reflected with a smile on her face. Ten of them they were, and a stranger group you could never hope to meet. Firstly there was an exiled Dawrven prince, and a cheerful and slightly foolish young former Templar, later came an Orlesian bard and a malicious witch from the southern swamps, and then a Qunari warrior in self-imposed exile. Then Wynne had joined their strange band, shortly after an Antivan assassin had made a failed attempt on their lives and then volunteered to join them. And finally a disgraced Dwarven warrior and an ancient golem had completed their band, and of course, Wynne chucked, how could she forget Krieger's loyal hound!

A strange thing occurred, just as Wynne was thinking about them, she saw them standing in front of her, she rubbed her eyes in disbelief but they were still there, laughing and joking among themselves. Krieger saw her and waved her over.

'Wynne, so glad you made it! Come and join us, we are having such fun!'

Wynne slowly walked forward but then stopped, her sense told her something wasn't quite right, and any good mage had to trust her senses. She stopped and began gazing further into her friends, determined to find something that was wrong with this spectacle, by now the others had advanced on her.

'Come and join us Wynne, it's great to be back together' they all shouted.

Wynne started backing away 'no, this isn't right' she warned, they were closing in on her, their faces becoming aggressive 'Come with us' they demanded quite uncharacteristically.

Wynne backed off further, her hands beginning to lighten up as a spell was forming 'no! I will not come with you! For you are not my friends!'

Realising that the ruse had been seen through, her friend's faces twisted into daemonic grins, they writhed and lurched until their true form became apparent, they were Desire daemons! This specific kind of daemon preferred trickery rather then combat, but they were fierce fighters nonetheless. They all closed in on her with their claws stretching outwards. Wynne flung several balls of magic at them but they merely shrugged these off and floated further. Wynne tripped and fell back painfully; the daemons were almost on her.

'Stay back! Stay back!' she cried, the daemons smiled, closing in for the kill.

A bright light began to shine above in the "sky", the daemons looked up, displeased at this disturbance, beams of light shone down and struck the ground with the force of a falling meteor, the daemons hissed and backed away from the shining lights, one of them struck the daemons, it screamed in pain and disintegrated away, a daemon could not be killed in the truest sense of the word, it could be "killed" and then gather enough of its energy to reform, though this took a long time. The other daemons began fleeing, some were caught in the beams and were horribly slain, but Wynne did not feel a scrap of sympathy for them. When they were all gone another figure appeared, this figure was wearing a robe not unlike that of the Circle towers librarian, he wore small glasses and carried scrolls under his arm, his face was ancient and wise, his features looked as if they had been carved out of stone. He watched Wynne with an expression of disappointment, like the one a parent gives when punishing a child. Wynne got up and sighed heavily 'I know I know, I should have seen through it, but remember, I don't have all my faculties' anymore old friend'. At the mention of such a thing as aging, the spirit cocked its head curiously, because both spirits and daemons were immortal creatures in a realm that was always changing at the whim of some powerful creature, both creatures had no concept of time, the fact that things happen in such a contextual space was alien to this creature. It held out its 'arm' and helped Wynne up, in reality this was not the spirits true form, in reality both spirits and daemons had no true form, they could change their image if they wished to deceive someone, but in the Fade most spirits and Daemons chose a form which suited their personality, and this spirit was no exception.

This was a sprit, a creature that felt no need to pry in the affairs of mortals, these were also creatures of emotion as well as other things, but the main difference was that spirits were creatures of positive things, such as Justice, Healing and Compassion, for all their benevolence, most spirits did not know of or care for mortals, they regarded them as inferior beings and scoffed at the daemons for associating with them. But this sprit was different; this was a spirit of Knowledge, always keen to learn about everything and everyone, including mortals and daemons. And this wasn't just any spirit of Knowledge, this was her spirit of Knowledge, it had been her companion throughout her entire life, watching her, protecting her, and above all guiding her and teaching her the ways of the Fade, it had even helped her during the Blight, giving her power to slay the Darkspawn and heal her friends. She was glad to have this spirit as company in her final days.

'Thank you for that timely rescue, tell me then, what besides myself brings you here?'

The spirit looked at her sadly and held out his hand, an indication that he wanted her to travel with him, she took it and a blinding light filled her vision, when she could see again she was in her spirits domain, his part of the Fade. It was a massive library, with countless tomes spanning all the knowledge the spirit possessed, because he was immortal she guessed that it possessed all the knowledge of the world. The spirit pointed to one large volume on a pedestal in the centre of the library. Wynne went over to the book and looked at it, she was amazed by what she saw, it was a book about her.

It contained everything, her life, her deeds, her thoughts and feelings about situations she had forgotten she had been in. Wynne's jaw dropped in amazement, this book was written about her and her alone, it contained the secrets of her past, and the secrets of her future. She turned to her friend, but not before noticing the book said she would turn to her friend.

'What is this!?, is this a book of what I have been and will become!'

The spirit nodded with a small frown, she had already figured that out for herself, Wynne was simply refusing to believe it. The spirit waved its hand and the pages of the book flew to one side, she saw many writings go past, many pages flew by with such speed, Wynne was still in disbelief, she only had a few more years on this earth, surely she could not do so much in such a short time. The pages finally rested on a blank one, well at first it was blank but then writings started to appear. The spirit pointed to a particular passage, Wynne was horrified by what she read.

_Wynne's body was broken, her limbs had been smashed and severed, as her lifeblood lay pooling around her she saw Krieger one last time, he knelt on a mountain of Fereldan corpses, including the bodies of Leliana and Alistair, he was valiantly fighting off those monsters, but both they and he knew he could not win, before Wynne passed, the last thing she saw was Krieger falling down._

Wynne gasped in horror, but the pages were turning again this time the text read.

_Wynne fell down, an Orlesian blade finishing her arm off, she lay down in a pool of blood and her opponent left her to die. She tried to scream defiance into the air, but her body lacked the strength now, and never would gain it ever again. She was dying and she knew it, the last thing she saw was all her friends, dead in a pool of blood, she tried to resist, tried to stand up and do something about it, but she knew it was a useless gesture. She was dying, her friends were dead, they had failed, they had all failed. The last thing she saw was the banner of the Orlesian Empire being raised in victory, then all was dark. _

Wynne turned back to her spirit friend, appalled that he would do such a thing to her, 'Why!?' she cried 'why show me such visions!?' the spirit turned to her with a severe gaze, he pointed again to the writing and Wynne noticed something else. Unlike the writing of her past which was written in black ink and was quite solid, this writing of the future kept changing colour and kept moving and shifting, it looked at though someone had written this with a multicoloured cloud, she also noticed that the passages kept changing, some words changed, some passages rewritten, sometimes they settled back to what Wynne had read them as, sometimes they did not, the spirit answered her questions before they were asked.

'These are not writings of things that will be, they are writings of things that may be' it warned gravely 'there is trouble coming to your home, if these shadows remain unaltered, what you read in the volume shall happen in reality, you know what you must do'

At the last word the spirits voice seemed to echo, the blinding light returned and Wynne could not she a thing, unlike before, when the light was warming and pleasant, this light was cold and unforgiving, she screamed as it consumed her.

When she came to she was on the cold stone of the tower floor, there were several people standing around her, she recognised one as her apprentice.

'Wynne! Wynne! Can you hear me?'

She rose up to the relived sighs of the crowd, there were several mages crowded into the chamber and many Templar's with weapons drawn. Her apprentice spoke up again, 'you screamed and were flung back against the wall, the Templar's suspected daemons' the apprentice shuddered.

Wynne recovered from her ordeal 'no you needn't worry, there was no daemon involved, but there is something important, take me to the First Enchanter, I must speak with him at once!'

The large crowd followed her all the way to the First Enchanter's office.

The Forest

Taal escorted the three Dwarves across the forest, at his order he marched farther ahead with Rat behind him for Krieger and Gorim to follow, both Taal and Rat were lightly armoured and the heavily armoured Dwarves would only give away their position. Once they were out in the forest Rat asked the elf a question.

'So have you and this Keeper been at odds for long?' he innocently questioned, the elf turned with a severe glare.

'Have you been a nosy Dwarf long?' his voice pierced, but he softened slightly when he saw the Dwarf meant no harm by the question. 'The Keeper and I have had a sort of thing going on since I was a youngster, my clan is by nature weary of humans but many have forgotten this lesson, but not I. I know that the humans will forever trouble our kind, they have committed such unforgiveable crimes against us that our races will never live in peace'.

'I've seen humans before, and they seem alright'

'You are a Dwarf, it is different for you, the elves have suffered greatly under the humans, and we have long memories'. He was solemnly quiet the rest of the journey.

They arrived at the main gate of the fortress and Krieger immediately saw why the Dalish were reluctant to attack it, even Taal gave a slight twinge of fear, the fortress looked all the more terrifying now that daylight revealed its mysteries. Arrow slits dotted the walls which were made of fine solid granite which made them difficult to climb, a field of pikes ensured there would be no charges against the walls. Smeared all across the walls now was the same symbol Taal had described along the way, there was also something in the air, they could all feel it but couldn't quite grasp it. The air smelt faintly of rotting eggs and there was a general feeling of maliciousness that Krieger and the others did not feel before, he had only ever had a similar experience once, when Blood Mages overran the Circle tower.

'Your Keeper was right' Krieger sighed 'if the clan attacked they wouldn't make it to the gates before they were all slaughtered'.

Taal merely shrugged 'the only place that would be safe for you to cross is when the drawbridge goes down, I'll climb over and open it, you'd better rush in, that falling drawbridge will attract attention'. He then fastened a rope to one of his arrows and fired it over the wall, once he tested it to make sure it was tight, he began the long climb. As he was watching him Krieger held up a hand to his forehead, there was something else about this he couldn't quite understand, Gorim saw what was happening.

'Something the matter Paragon?'

'I don't know Gorim, I can just sense something, this environment, this feeling, it all reminds me of some sort of blood magic, but I'm not sure'. Gorim was about to answer when they heard the sound of groaning metal. With a loud protest the drawbridge drew open, it started slowly at first then fell to the ground with a massive thud, Taal stood there, his bow at the ready, he beckoned them over.

'Something's wrong' he warned and pointed to the courtyard 'do you see what I see?'

Rat was the first to notice 'There are no guards' Taal nodded, 'I saw a small army the first time I came in, why is there none now?'

'I have an unpleasant feeling we'll find out' moaned Gorim.

They advanced very quickly with no guards to distract them, they came up into the main door into the castle, this was made of solid oak and they guessed it was a few feet thick. This door would take days to cut through so that was out of the question; there was also no visible means of making the door move. Rat noticed a nearby window and pointed to it.

'That probably goes to the door, I'll go in and move it' he picked up a rock and smashed the window, in the dim silence it sounded all the louder, Krieger withdrew Starfang, somebody almost definitely would have heard that. Rat climbed through with difficultly and soon nothing else could be heard, it stayed this way for several minutes. Krieger shifted nervously 'I don't like this, something is wrong' he said before they heard the sound of the door creaking. Two men dressed in crude armour came out talking and did not notice the others until they bumped into them, for a moment they stared at each other blankly, and then they started to raise their weapons. Fortunately Taal's Elven reflexes were much faster and he had an arrow lodged in his enemy's skull before he could even shout. The other guard began running to raise the alarm but as he turned a crossbow bolt made contact with his face, he fell in a heap, his face in ruins.

'Sorry I'm late, but there are many passages in here, you could get lost easily' he warned, 'and that same symbol is smeared all over the walls, even inside this fort'.

As they entered they saw this was true, the same symbol, painted in blood dotted the walls of the chambers, having one symbol face you was a bad enough assault on the senses, having this many was a most unpleasant experience indeed. Taal began to clutch his head in revulsion, it was beginning to ache strongly, even the sturdy Dwarves were beginning to feel weighted and sickly. Taal pointed to a large door at the end of the hall.

'There is where I saw the ritual last time, be prepared, this is not something easy to watch'

They entered cautiously, weapons drawn and prepared for battle, at first it was total darkness, not a thing could be seen or heard, the warriors were uneasy, then the whole scene was brilliantly lit. Someone had ignited all the torches in the room at once, they revealed a whole room filled to the brim with bandits, there was also a large dais atop which stood many evil looking men in red robes, they all carried strange deadly looking surgical tools and stood with hostile glares at the interlopers. The bandits raised their weapons to charge but a commanding voice told them to be still, the bandits quickly obeyed with looks of fear on their faces. A man came striding up the dais so that he could be picked out among the rest. He too wore a large red robe but also a black cloak rested on his shoulders, it was clear that this man was in command. The other red robes had balls of energy glowing in their hands, an indication that they possessed magical ability, but the commander sported an ornate gold staff. It would have been a grand thing were it not for the screaming faces carved into it; it looked as though they were giving wails of despair. The commander gave an almost friendly smile 'Good evening my fine fellows, may I say welcome to our grand unveiling' his voice had an almost silky politeness to it.

'Taal! Help us!' came several cries from a cage nearby, inside were several Dalish men women and children of all ages, they were all desperate looking and crying out for help, at the sight of them Taal's face twisted into a furious snarl.

'Let them go at once!' he demanded, the commander chuckled.

'Ah yes the elves, don't worry they will get out of that cage, though you may not like them when they do' he laughed mockingly. Taal aimed his bow and, incensed with rage, fired a shot at the human's head. He simply waved his staff and the arrow caught fire, it was ash before it was even halfway to the man.

'Oh don't worry, they'll be time for that later, as for now, a little entertainment I think' he snapped his fingers and a monster came down. Everyone, even the bandits, recoiled in horror at this abomination. Its skin appeared to be covered in a thick chainmail, but on closer inspection its skin was chainmail, its face was ghoulish and filled with long black fangs, it moved with unnatural agility. Its only weapon appeared to be its claws, but these were so sharp it could cut even through the thickest armour. Krieger pointed his weapon directly at the creature, it looked at him, slowly hopped towards him but backed away when the sword point came to close.

'Scary isn't he, what do you say to a little duel, I've been eager to test this creature in combat'. He waved his hand and the creature pounced forward. It caught Krieger in the chest, its long claws making a mockery of his armour; the tips stabbed his chest painfully. Krieger responded by slashing it across its back with all his might, the creature was able to dodge the worst of the damage, but still jumped back painfully. The others ran to help Krieger but the commander stopped them 'oh I am sorry, but this is a one-on-one duel, if you help all my men will attack you' he mocked.

Krieger recovered himself, 'don't worry, I'll take him' he raised Starfang and charged at the creature, his forward slash missed by a hairs length and the creature pounced on him, tearing at his back savagely. Krieger quickly sped sideways and smashed the creatures head with the pommel of his sword, it lost a few teeth and there was a trickle of blood at the corner of its mouth. It ran towards him again but Krieger used his sword to block it off, its arms flailed around, looking for gaps in his defence, Krieger let it come closer to gain a little slack, but then used all of his strength to push it back, with his considerable strength it flung the creature down, as it landed Krieger ran it through with Starfang, it screamed in pain and struggled to get the sword out of its chest, Krieger twisted the sword to make it more painful before withdrawing it, to his horror, the creature got back up. It sped fast then he thought and knocked Krieger down, he sprawled painfully upon the floor, he barely had time to get back up before the creature bit at its face, it tore mercilessly, inflicting many long scratches before it managed to gain a hold on his helmet, its teeth sank into the helmet slowly, the creature was trying to crush his skull. Krieger struggled desperately, without his helmet he would not have survived the creatures attacks, he could ill afford to lost it now. His left hand tried to batter the creature while his right one searched for something to hit it with he reached out and felt the pommel of his sword, he grabbed it and swung with all his might.

At first there was nothing, just a large form falling on top of him, then Krieger found the energy to stand up, he was forced to remove his helmet, the creatures teeth still lodged in it. He looked down and saw the creature's corpse and knew the reason for this, the creature was beheaded and its head was attached to his helmet in a grotesque manner. Krieger immediately threw away the helmet in horror but soon regretted it. That was a specially designed Grey Warden helmet; it was a very expensive thing, the commander looked extremely angry.

'Dang and blast it! I was so hoping that creature would kill you! Do you know how much magic it takes to manufacture a creature like that! I am positively miffed sir!'

Krieger spat out a mouthful of blood and adopted a severe voice 'I have defeated your champion, the rest of you will be slain much more easily. I give you all one last warning, release the Dalish now or you will all be slain, I guarantee that'.

There were some looks of hesitation, but the commanding mage silenced any rebellious thoughts 'you've upset me greatly sir, I'm afraid I must force you to join my ranks now'

'What do you mean?' Taal asked hesitantly.

The mage smiled 'you see, I've had my mages chanting a spell ever since that Dwarf knuckled down with my creation' he spoke the truth, they were chanting all together and a large ball of energy was forming above them. 'And would you be so kind as to look where you're standing' the mage chuckled.

The group looked down to discover their boots were slick with blood; the bandits looked down to discover they were standing in it as well.

'And now gentlemen I bid you goodbye, to make up for your damage you shall swell the ranks of my army! Just as these simple bandits will!' he cried before uttering a disgusting word, it was a harsh inhuman word which bent the rules of reality and opened a massive portal in the room. It opened with a wet sucking sound as reality and insanity clashed together in an insane vortex, it swirled around painting the room every colour imaginable before sending sparks of Fade energy everywhere. Everybody noticed the blood at their feet was beginning to heat up painfully, it also seemed to be growing on them, seeping into their pores and pouring into gaps in their armour. Krieger sensed the danger and ran towards the exit with his arms flailing.

'Get out of the room now!' he screamed, the others needed no second bidding and ran out to the massive doorway, as soon as they got there the blood slackened off, as if it knew it would not be able to consume them. The bandits also tried exiting, but for them it was too late, the blood consumed every inch of their being until they were completely covered in it. They thrashed about wildly in rebellion but it was futile, the blood began to heat up more and then the screaming began, the humans screamed at the top of their lungs as they writhed upon the floor, each tearing at their eyes, their chests, all parts of their body, as if something inside them was struggling to get out.

'Let us not waste time!' Taal yelled and fired an arrow into the prisoner's cage, it went through the lock, breaking it and allowing the door to open.

'Move now!' Taal ordered they quickly ran to avoid being consumed by the ravenous blood; they all sped out of the door with pure panic motivating them.

'Taal! Rat! Guide them to the camp! We'll hold them off' Krieger ordered, Taal immediately ran ahead, shouting to his fellow Dalish as he went, Rat looked reluctant to leave his friends but ran behind, making sure none fell down and were left behind.

By now some of the bloodied forms were able to stand up, their coating of blood melted away and their new form was revealed, they too bore similar forms to the creature that Krieger had fought, and they advanced slowly with their claws aimed for the Dwarves faces.

Krieger and Gorim slowly backed away, their outstretched weapons ensuring that no creature ventured too close. The laughing shouts of the commanding mage ringed in their ears.

'Success! Success I say! My experiments have come to fruition! With an army of these things Ferelden will be ours!'

The creatures were running now, any sense of danger forgotten as they dashed to consume their prey, the two Dwarves realised they could not fight them all and ran with all haste. Even though they were enemies Krieger could not help but feel sorry for those bandits, they had no doubt been promised the world but had instead been enslaved to the will of a madman. Suddenly any sympathy he might have had was lost forever.

One of the creatures pounced upon Krieger's back, weakened by his fight earlier Krieger instantly gave way, the creature clawed madly at his back; he was able to create an opening in the armour and reached for Krieger's spine. Gorim's mace scored a direct hit and send the creature sprawling back, the Dwarf picked his friend up and carried him to the door, and they were out in the courtyard before they saw them again.

The creatures all swarmed out of the fortress, each pair of eyes fixed on the two Dwarves, true to their creation, the creature that Gorim hit was not killed; it only had a few scratches upon its chainmail like skin. Krieger had recovered but still walked with a limp, one of the creatures leapt upon them again but an arrow to the eye stopped it before it could harm anyone, it fell to the ground in a slumped heap, all were sure it was genuinely dead. Rat and Taal were at the gates, peppering the advancing horde with arrows, there was nowhere near enough to stop them, but they provided enough cover for their allies to limp back. as they were nearing the gate disaster struck.

A creature caught the unwary Gorim by the ankle, he stumbled back as he struggled valiantly, Krieger tried to help but Gorim pushed him into Rat's arms.

'Take him boy! I'll hold them off!' Gorim cried.

Krieger desperately called out to his friend 'don't be foolish Gorim, we can make it!' but he was too wounded to see that he was lying,

All around them the horde closed in, and the commander mage had instruceted the drawbridge to rise, in a few seconds they would be trapped, and none of them believed they could win this fight. Gorim handed Krieger his shield 'give this to my family' he solemnly commanded.

'Gorim no! Don't do this!' Krieger wailed.

Gorim took one last look at his dearest friend 'it's been an honour serving you, my lord Audecan' before he ran into the midst of the creatures and fought like a Dwarf possessed. Taal pulled the rest of out of the fortress and commanded 'now! We need to leave now!'

Rat practically had to drag Krieger all the way back; he was screaming his friends name all the way.

The Fortress

The blood mage leader gave a satisfied smirk, he was very pleased with the results of his experiment, and that Dwarf, my oh my, what a ferocious fighter! Since he knew he wouldn't survive he fought with all haste, taking down four of his creations before he was slain, he was currently been devoured by the survivors now. It was a shame that he couldn't be made to join their ranks, but oh well. He'd only lost five creatures today; he could replenish that number very quickly. He chuckled to himself, all was going well.

The Dalish camp (several hours later)

It was a scene of mass celebration, all the prisoners had been bought back safely, they were currently laughing and hugging their families while the clan feasted for this joyous occasion. Only one soul was not in a celebratory mood.

Krieger had been on the brink of death when he was bought back into the camp, even though he was going to make a full recovery, he certainly didn't feel that way. He'd just lost one of his greatest friends, they had known each other since childhood, he was certain Gorim was going to be at his side for the rest of his life. He was a good man, an honourable man; he didn't deserve to die that way. Keeper Macha came and sat with him.

'I was told of your friend, I am truly sorry, rest assured that when we thank the Creators for this rescue we will also give thanks to your friend, were it not for him we wouldn't have cause to celebrate tonight'

Krieger looked up at the old elf's face 'thank you, I know he would have liked that'

The Keeper smiled and rose 'Taal also told me of the creatures in that fortress, we will leave early tomorrow morning, for now rest, you've more than earned it'.

Rat soon came running over 'I didn't know Gorim that well, but I know he served and protected you all his life, it's fitting that he died that way I suppose' Rat mused.

Krieger smiled, the lad was not experienced at comforting, 'thanks lad, I will honour his final wish, his shield, my father's shield, will be sent back to his family. I will also ensure that he be remembered as the hero he was'.

Taal also decided to accompany them 'you've helped us well Dwarf, for that I will guide you to Denerim, I promise that. I would also request permission to join you in your travels'

Krieger and Rat looked at him 'why?' they both asked.

'The Keeper and I have been hostile to each other since I returned; she says my influence drives the clan to commit rash acts. Personally I think she just needs time to cool off, overall, I think it would be better if I left the clan for a few weeks, besides, you can handle yourselves quite well, and you're a follower short I believe' he began to chuckle but was silenced by Rat's stare.

Krieger sighed and poured them all a glass of wine, 'so be it, you're a good archer Taal, you'll be an invaluable help to us. I vow to finish this quest, so the sacrifice of my friend will not be in vain, for Gorim!' he declared raising his glass in a toast.

His other two companions raised their glasses 'for Gorim!'

**Authors note- when I was working on this chapter I remembered that there hadn't been any mention of darkspawn for a while, and I'm sorry for that. This story sort of took its own path with Orlais and whatnot; I'm unsure whether to fit the darkspawn in because they are not particularly relevant to the story. I am considering doing a sequel once this story is finished, I'll appreciate possible feedback on the matter.**

Sincerely Quill-Weaver


	7. Confession and request for help

Hello everyone, I have decided to end my time as Quill-Weaver, I no longer feel as though I can contribute stories to this site do too little time for writing, I have decided to move on to other hobbies.

My stories were not that good anyway.

It would be appreciated if someone could tell me how to end my profile on fan fiction, I keep sending messages to the managers but they never respond.

One final regards

Quill-Weaver.


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